


If He Knew

by mrsfizzle



Category: DCU, Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotp, Clark Tells the Truth, Communication, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Good Person Lex Luthor, Hurt/Comfort, Lex Finds Out, Origin Story, Partnership, Protective Lex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 52,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsfizzle/pseuds/mrsfizzle
Summary: Lex's Porsche mows down Clark on its way off the bridge and into the water. Clark swims down and rips open the roof of the car to rescue him; Lex is unconscious and never sees Clark use his powers. But what if he had been awake to see the whole thing?
Relationships: Clark Kent & Lex Luthor
Comments: 254
Kudos: 136





	1. Accident

**Author's Note:**

> Another "Lex finds out" story, except starting in the pilot.
> 
> (For regular readers of my stories: "If He Knew" is completely incompatible with all of my other works, with the exception of the pre-series fics.)

Smallville was a punishment. Lex knew that. Clubbing until six in the morning and hiring more prostitutes than he could count was supposed to get his father's attention. Instead, it had gotten him exiled to a fertilizer factory in a little farming town.

Lex had to hand it to his father: the man knew how to make him suffer. The whole town smelled like manure, the plant was worse, and the town was packed out with inbred hicks who gave him dirty looks every time he passed by. The lavishness of the mansion wasn't exactly a consolation—the whole place gave him the creeps.

Not to mention his job was impossible. The crap factory hadn't turned a profit in two years, and the employees already hated him. Lex hadn't decided which course of action would stick it to his father most effectively: sinking the plant into the ground in record time, or turning it around and actually making it successful. The former would be easier, but it might earn him a worse place of exile, and that was hard to imagine.

The wide open spaces were nice, though. He hadn't been able to drive this fast in Metropolis. He took to the open roads and enjoyed the feeling of control, however temporary it might be, of driving his Porsche around tight corners.

Lex's cell phone started ringing in his pocket. He fumbled to take it out and see who was calling.

He only looked down for a couple of seconds.

* * *

Lana was never going to notice him. His dad was never going to let him play football. Clark was going to go through high school as a complete and total loser.

He had wandered out to the bridge to look out over the water. The wind rippled the surface, and it calmed him down a little. It cleared his mind, letting him forget his worries, at least for a little while. His friends had commented before that he had a certain look about him—like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He'd heard some of the older kids at his school mutter that he was a drama queen, and he'd heard his mom whisper to his dad that he was sensitive.

He disagreed. They didn't know how exhausting it was to have to hide his abilities all of the time. He would have given anything to be normal.

A roaring engine sounded off to his right. Clark looked up to see a silver sports car flying down the road, headed right toward him.

* * *

Lex looked up in time to see a huge, spiked metal coil out in the middle of the road. He slammed on the brakes and tried to turn at the same time, and he lost control, skidding.

His tires exploded upon the impact, and he swung wildly off to the right. He was going to go off the bridge. This was the end.

There was a kid standing there. How fast had he been going? 60? 80? Lex couldn't swerve in time—

* * *

The impact hurt. A lot, actually, but the pain was gone by the time Clark hit the water.

He forced his eyes open and saw the Porsche sinking. The driver was still inside.

Clark pushed off his backpack and swam for the car. His speed worked as well under the water as it did on land.

* * *

Sheer panic.

This was how he was going to go. He'd killed a kid, and now he was going to die.

The car filled with freezing cold water almost instantly. Lex didn't even have time to take a last breath before it surrounded him.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to make out his surroundings in the murky darkness. The windshield was shattered, which meant that he wouldn't have to try to break a window or open a door under the pressure of the water. He could probably swim his way to freedom, if he could only get himself out of his seat. The front of the car had smashed in just enough that he was trapped.

Lex frantically squirmed in his seat as the asphyxiation started to burn in his lungs. It occurred to him that this was what Julian had felt as he was dying.

His last vision before death was that of the kid he'd hit with his car. Fitting that God would taunt him like this. God must have had some things in common with his father.

It was a strange vision, though. The kid peeled back the roof of the Porsche as though it were a can of sardines, then grabbed Lex by the arms and yanked him out of the car. Lex squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for heaven or hell, purgatory or oblivion, when they broke the surface of the water.

He coughed and sputtered, then sucked in a breath. The air tasted sweet and new.

Then his eyes fell on the kid.

* * *

Clark almost left the guy behind in the water.

How many times had his dad drilled into him never to use his abilities in front of anyone? How many times had he filled his mind with terrifying images of needles and scalpels, blue gloves and white lab coats, electrodes and tubes and machinery?

When Clark had peeled open the top of the car, he could see the panic and confusion in the man's eyes. It was too late to pretend, or to try to save him in a less suspicious way. The man would either die, or he would know Clark's secret. There wasn't a third option.

Clark dropped him onto the ground a little ways from the water. Clark was a little surprised when he got a good look at the guy. He was bald, so Clark had assumed he was older, but now Clark could see that he was pretty young, probably in his twenties.

When the man had finished coughing, he looked up at Clark, terror and awe in his eyes. Clark swallowed hard.

"So..." Clark sat back on his feet. "I guess you saw that."

"How are you alive? W-what are you?"

"I don't know. I've been like this for as long as I can remember."

"Did you even feel my car hit you?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, though. Hey, listen, um . . ."

"Lex Luthor."

"Mr. Luthor." He recognized the name—his dad sometimes complained about some guy with that last name, but he didn't think the first name had been Lex. "Look, no one really knows about . . . me, other than my parents. So if you could . . ." Clark winced.

The man smirked. "I hit you with my car, and you saved my life. I think keeping your secret is the least I can do." He held out a hand. "Call me Lex."

Clark shook it. "I'm Clark."

Sirens sounded in the distance. "That's probably for us," Lex said softly.

Clark's heart rate picked up. He couldn't let the paramedics check him out—his parents had drilled that into him, too.

Lex cleared his throat. "Want me to tell them I, ah, _almost_ hit you?"

"What?"

"We can say I almost hit you, and you jumped in after me to save me."

"Oh, right. Okay. Thanks." Clark grimaced. "The top of your car is peeled up, won't it look suspicious?"

"I can keep the media away from it. Trust me, I'm good with reporters."

 _Trust me_ was an ironic statement. Clark didn't have much of a choice.

"What do you want to tell your parents?"

He was tempted to feed them the same story that he gave the paramedics, but that would just make it worse when they figured it out. "I have to tell them the truth." Clark could already picture the looks on their faces. "My dad is going to kill me."

" _You?_ I'm the one who hit you with my car."

"Yeah." Clark took a deep breath. "We're both dead."


	2. Threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cool. I'll run with this. It's mostly just fun, not sappy like my other work (I mean, sappy's my jam, but variety is nice).
> 
> There will be some direct quotes here and there throughout. I may or may not actually cite the episodes every single time for this one. It's pretty obvious no one on this site owns anything. (Though just saying, if I was someone who produced original works that became famous enough for people to write fanfic about them, I would be right here with you all, exploring AU scenarios and writing sappy H/C about the characters I killed off in canon. Though I'd probably never tell anyone who I was, 'cause I mean, if a HP fanfic writer claimed to be J.K. Rowling, would you believe them?)

Clark let Lex do most of the talking when the paramedics came. The paramedics looked over them for injuries—Clark figured it was okay, since it was just a glance over—and asked Clark for his parents' phone number.

Lex seemed to be unharmed, other than a few cuts from the broken glass. Clark was at least happy for that. The paramedics gave them both bright red shock blankets, then left them alone, but some police officers took their statements. Again, Clark let Lex do the talking. Clark didn't like lying, even though he had to do it a lot.

"Clark!" His dad came racing down the hill to where Clark was sitting with the blanket. He put one hand on Clark's shoulder and the other to his face. "Son, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." He didn't feel okay, though. His heart was beating harder than it usually did when he ran at top speed. He knew he should be afraid of the stranger he'd saved and what might happen if he turned out to be untrustworthy, but right now, he couldn't think past his fear of his dad's reaction when he found out Clark had revealed his secret.

His dad looked up and yelled to one of the police officers, "Who's the maniac who was driving that car?"

"That would be me." Lex stepped forward and held out a hand. Clark had to admire his courage—Lex looked less nervous than Clark felt. "Lex Luthor."

Clark's dad ignored the outstretched hand, instead taking off his jacket and putting it around Clark's shoulders. "I'm Jonathan Kent. This is my son."

"Dad," Clark said softly.

"What?"

Clark flinched—his dad was already shouting. "He . . . _knows_."

The look on his father's face was worse than anything he had imagined. "About you?"

"Yeah."

"How?" he hissed.

"I—I can't—" Clark gestured around to the police and paramedics.

His dad stood up straight. "Go on up to the truck." He whirled to face Lex. "You're coming with us, Luthor."

"It's Lex," Lex said softly, but he followed them up to the truck.

There really wasn't room for the three of them to sit comfortably in the truck. Clark sat between his father and the stranger, pressed against both. The ride home was tense and silent, but Clark was thankful his dad wasn't trying to talk about it while driving. He and Lex had already been in one collision today.

His dad was the first to go into the house, closely followed by Clark. Lex hung behind, standing beside the truck, hands in his pockets.

His mom ran up to hug him right away. "Clark! Are you okay, baby?"

"I'm fine." He hugged her back, because it would make her feel better, but pulled away before she could smother him.

His dad called out the front door. "Get in here, we need to talk!"

Lex jogged into the house, though he kept his head down a little.

"Tell me what happened." Clark's dad kept his eyes on Lex, but Clark was pretty sure his dad was talking to him.

"He hit me with his car," Clark said.

"There was some sort of metal coil in the road, I lost control," Lex said.

" _You_ keep quiet."

" _Dad_."

His dad looked over at him.

"It was an accident. His car hit me, and we both went into the water. He was gonna drown, so I swam down, tore open the roof of the car, and got him out."

Clark did his best to keep his voice calm, like it was no big deal, but that seemed to have an even worse effect. Lex's eyes just kept growing wider, like he was in shock at hearing what he had already seen spoken aloud. Clark's dad's eyes kept narrowing.

"Go upstairs, Clark," his dad finally said.

"But—"

"Now."

* * *

When Jonathan Kent had told Lex to get in the car, Lex had obeyed, even thought he had already called for a driver to pick him up from the crash site and bring him back to the mansion. Lex chafed a little at being ordered around by a poor stranger—a farmer, going by his clothes, physique, and place of residency—but he couldn't imagine disobeying. For one thing, Lex owed Clark his life. For another, one didn't simply turn down the opportunity to learn more about what might be the most remarkable being on the face of the planet.

But mostly, Lex didn't dare cross Mr. Kent because he looked like he was ready to kill Lex with his bare hands. Lex knew some basic hand-to-hand combat, but this man was clearly leagues beyond him in terms of raw strength. Lex was sore enough from the whiplash.

Back at the house, Clark spoke so casually about what had happened. As if this type of thing happened all the time. Mr. Kent looked angry, and Mrs. Kent looked worried, but neither of them looked the least bit surprised.

Clark had said no one knew about his abilities except for his parents. Lex wondered if he was the first person to find out. Was that why they had asked him here? Were they willing to kill to keep their secret? Lex pushed the thought aside—killing was something his own father would probably do to keep a secret, but that didn't make it likely. And Clark seemed too calm to be harboring the knowledge that someone was about to be murdered in his living room.

Lex swallowed hard after Clark left the room. "You have an extraordinary boy, Mr. and Mrs. Kent—"

"You'd better be thankful for that, or you'd be responsible for killing him," Mr. Kent snapped.

"Respectfully, sir, I'd be dead."

Mr. Kent was silent for a moment, looking him over.

Lex took a deep breath. "I'd like to repay him. I have money, I—"

"Oh, I know you have money."

 _Ah._ "I take it you know my father."

"We've met, yes."

"My condolences."

Mr. Kent didn't say anything. Mrs. Kent's eyebrows raised, like she wanted to interject, but she kept silent as well.

Lex cleared his throat. "About Clark . . . he saved my life, the least I can do is thank him. Can I buy him a new truck?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because Clark's a good kid, and I don't want this going to his head."

 _Something smaller, then_. "How about a PlayStation?"

"Absolutely not."

"Well, can I . . . get him an ice cream? I owe him my life, the least I can do is—"

"You want to repay us." Mr. Kent took a step toward Lex.

"Yes, of course."

Mr. Kent grabbed a fistful of Lex's shirt at the shoulder—Lex's breath caught. "Forget you ever met my son. Forget what you saw him do. Stay away from my family."

Lex forced himself to take a breath. "It's already forgotten."

"If you ever breathe a word about what happened to any other living soul—"

"I get it."

"—I'll see to it you regret the very day you were born. That's a promise."

Lex had been regretting his own birth since he was twelve, but that didn't make the threat any less effective.

"Are we clear, Luthor?"

"Crystal."

Mr. Kent let go of Lex's shoulder and gave him a shove toward the door. "Get out of my house."


	3. Scarecrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments definitely inspired some of the details in this chapter. They also made me happy and extra excited about continuing :)

Clark had never really been able to like Whitney—he was dating the girl Clark had loved since he was a child, after all—but Clark never really thought Whitney would have been capable of something like this.

For multiple reasons. He didn't think Whitney was the type, for one thing, but what had happened also shouldn't have been possible. Clark had been timid and a little nerdy in middle school, so he'd been teased, but never really bullied. He could have easily defended himself if it came to that. Today, though, he'd been totally defenseless. Weaker than his own parents, and definitely weaker than an entire football team.

The rough hands that had hit him and dragged him into the truck had hurt. Really hurt. Clark wasn't used to feeling pain at all. Now, though, those blows were distant, happy memories to the impossible chill of the October air, the excruciating ache in his arms from being wrenched back in the unnatural position on the cross, and the burning fire in his veins that didn't seem to counteract the icy night air in the slightest, concentrated around where Lana's necklace hung.

Someone passed by—a kid about Clark's age—but he refused to help. Said something about Clark being safer out there. But as the night crawled on, agonizing pain permeating every second, Clark slowly began to realize that if he couldn't get help, he was going to die.

The worst part about dying wasn't the soreness, or the cold, or the heat. The worst part was the last conversation he'd had with his father had been a fight.

His father had taken him down to the storm cellar as soon as Lex was gone and shown him his spaceship. He'd given Clark all of an hour to cool off from finding out he was an alien before calling him back down into the living room to be lectured.

_"We've talked about letting people see your powers, Clark. You know how dangerous it is."_

_"More dangerous than drowning? Because that's what would have happened to Lex."_

_"It's not your job to fix everything."_

_"What are you saying, Dad? That I should have let him die?"_

_"No, that's not . . . Look, it doesn't matter. Just stay away from Lex."_

That was the part that had hit Clark hard. Finally, someone besides his parents knew his secret, and he even seemed like a nice guy. He wasn't Clark's age, but he was closer than his parents were. And now his father wanted him to stay away from the one person he might be able to talk to.

 _"Why?"_ Clark had asked.

_"Because you know how I feel about the Luthors."_

_"I've never_ _even heard you mention Lex before. Why do you hate him so much?"_

_"I don't hate him."_

_"I heard you threatening him. I've never heard you talk like that to anyone."_

_"You've never met Lionel."_

_"And you had never met Lex!"_

_"Neither had you! All you know about him is that he hit you with his car."_

_"He was nice to me. He didn't treat me like a freak, he promised to keep my secret, and he helped me come up with a cover story. Hitting me was an accident."_

_"If he'd hit anyone else, they would have been dead."_

_"He would be, too! Can't we be thankful it was me?"_

_"I'm thankful you're alive. Believe me, son, I am. All I'm asking you to do is to stay away from the Luthors."_

Clark had stormed out then, and they hadn't spoken since.

Looking back, Clark wasn't sure why it had been such a big deal. Yes, it seemed unfair for his father to be judging Lex so quickly, and those threats had been uncalled for, but Clark could understand why his father was reluctant to give the benefit of the doubt to someone who could have hurt Clark.

Now, with the perspective that came from knowing he was going to die, Clark couldn't see why defending a total stranger had been so important to him that he'd felt the need to yell at his dad. Maybe he was still upset about his dad having kept the spaceship from him for so long.

He couldn't die out here. He couldn't let those be the last words he and his dad ever spoke to each other.

"Help me," he managed to gasp out to the empty cornfield. " _Help me!_ "

But there was nothing. No one. Only the darkness and the pain.

* * *

Lex had to pass by the cornfield where he'd lost his hair in order to get from the plant to the mansion.

He was sure that that wasn't a coincidence. For whatever reason, his father's mission really was to make his life as miserable as possible. It didn't make sense to Lex, but it didn't have to make sense—he just had to live with it.

Lex passed by the cornfield slowly. He couldn't reminisce every time he passed by, but this was the first time he'd been back in Smallville since the meteor shower. He remembered that day well, which didn't seem fair—why couldn't his mind have blocked out the trauma?—but the field looked and felt much creepier at night.

He let his mind wander back to that afternoon. His father had been especially annoyed with him for panicking in the helicopter. Lex had wandered into the cornfield against his father's orders, even knowing he'd probably face punishment for it later on. There had been a kid in the middle of the field, stripped to his underwear and tied to a stake. Crucified, he supposed, though he hadn't thought of it that way at the time.

A kid darted out from the field, then ran away.

Lex got out of the car. His mind must have been playing tricks on him. The kid looked _exactly_ like the kid he'd seen that day in the field.

" _Help me_." A weak voice from the field.

That was what the kid had said. Lex's mind was _definitely_ playing tricks on him. But the voice sounded awfully real . . .

Lex grabbed a flashlight from his trunk and started searching the cornfield. Part of him couldn't believe he was doing this, but Lex had been too startled to help that kid, all those years ago, and it had haunted him later.

He hadn't been imagining the voice—another kid was tied up in his underwear, with a big red "S" painted on his chest. But this time, Lex recognized him.

" _Clark?_ "

Clark lifted his head. His twisted expression didn't leave much to the imagination in terms of the pain he was feeling.

"Oh, jeez." He could worry about Jonathan Kent's threats later. For now, he rushed over to untie the ropes. "Who did this to you?"

"Doesn't matter."

Lex might have let that one go until he made sure Clark was okay, if it weren't for what he'd seen earlier. " _Doesn't matter?_ My car hit you going sixty miles an hour and you lived, but someone managed to tie you up here. That's not someone I want to meet in a dark alley. _Who did this?_ "

"Just some guys at my school." Clark hit the ground, and he sprung to his feet.

"Did something happen to you?"

Clark scooped up a pile of clothes from where they'd been dumped a short distance away. "No, I'm fine."

" _Fine?_ Earlier today, you ripped open the top of my car with your bare hands, underwater. Tonight, you couldn't break through a couple of ropes."

Clark's brow furrowed, but he remained silent as he started to dress himself.

Lex shook his head. He wasn't even supposed to be talking to this kid, let alone asking questions about his powers. Clark didn't owe Lex any answers. They didn't even know each other. "Sorry, I'll go."

"No, it's okay." Clark looked up, and his eyes met Lex's. "You're right, something happened to me, and I don't know what. But I can't talk to my parents about this. They'll freak out."

Lex could imagine that.

"Look, I've got to go do something right now, but I could use your help figuring this out. Can I drop by your house after school on Monday?"

"Ah . . ." Lex rubbed the back of his neck. "Your parents told me to stay away from you."

Clark gave him a slight smile. "I'm good at keeping secrets."

Despite everything, Lex found himself returning the smile.

"See you Monday," Clark said, and he disappeared into the night.


	4. Friendship

One advantage to living in a small town was that if Clark didn't get home until two hours after school finished, his parents wouldn't ask where he'd been. Most days, he didn't go straight home anyway. He hung out with Pete, or helped Chloe with the Torch, or did his homework in the library, or went to the Beanery. The other day, he'd walked over to the bridge to look out over the water—he wouldn't be doing that anymore, though.

Clark felt a little bad about disobeying his dad. They'd made up after their argument, kind of. They'd both apologized for yelling and confessed that they were on edge because of the car accident and the revelation about the storm cellar, but they hadn't talked about Lex.

There wasn't a doorbell at the mansion. Just a big gate and a uniformed security guy, who let Clark in without a question when he gave his name.

Lex was sitting at his desk staring at his computer when Clark entered the study. He glanced up as Clark approached his desk. "What time does school let out?"

"3."

He looked back at his computer screen. "It's 3:05. What, did you fly here?"

"I ran. I'm . . . fast." It was so incredibly relieving to be able to be open about that instead of lying.

"Save any lives on the way over?"

Clark shifted his weight a little. "You heard about Whitney."

"I've been assuming he's the one who crucified you. Am I right?"

It was true that Clark had come over to talk about the scarecrow incident, but he really didn't want to talk about Whitney. He glanced around the room. "This is a great place."

"Yeah? If you're dead and in the market for something to haunt."

That caught Clark off guard—Lex lived in a mansion big enough to house half the town, and he didn't even like it. "I meant, it's roomy."

"It's the Luthor ancestral home, or so my father claims. He had it shipped over from Scotland stone by stone."

"Yeah, I remember trucks rolled through town for weeks, but no one ever moved in."

"My father had no intention of living here. He's never even stepped through the front door."

"Then why'd he ship it over?"

"Because he could. Now he's exiled me here." Lex smirked. "But you didn't run over here to hear me go on about my father."

Clark shrugged. "I hear a lot about him from mine."

"Whatever he's said, it's probably true, and worse than he thinks."

Clark doubted that.

Lex took a step closer. "You ran here from school, right? Can I get you something to eat?"

"Sure." He was always hungry after school. Maybe food would make it easier to start the conversation.

* * *

Lex ended up sitting next to Clark in one of the dining rooms with a plate of snacks between them. The kid had cheap tastes, of course—it took a little while to find things in the kitchen that Clark had heard of—but Lex had managed to scrounge up some grapes and almonds, and he made a mental note to have a servant pick up some Doritos and Red Vines in case Clark decided to swing by again.

They were both quiet for few minutes while they ate. Lex wracked his brain, trying to figure out how to ask the questions he wanted to ask. They didn't know each other well, so Lex wasn't sure if he should be asking any questions, but then, Clark had come here to talk about his secrets, hadn't he? Besides, Clark seemed to want to be friends. This was how friendship worked, right? Lex didn't have anything to compare it to.

Finally, Clark looked up, his eyes piercing Lex's. "Do you think I'm a freak?"

Lex had to hold in a laugh. The most powerful being on earth was afraid of _his_ judgement. "I've been bald since I was nine. I know what it's like to be judged by people who don't know anything about me. I don't know what you are, Clark, but . . . nah, I don't think you're a freak."

Clark let his breath out. "Thank you."

Lex decided to take a chance. "But who cares what I think, Clark? The question is, what do you think you are?"

Clark looked down. For a second, Lex worried he'd pushed too hard, but then Clark started talking again. "I've been this way for as long as I can remember. Before the accident at the bridge, I didn't know why. After it happened, my dad took me down to our storm cellar and . . . showed me my spaceship. I guess I arrived in it the day of the meteor shower."

Lex's eyes widened. He supposed he had been expecting something like that. It was startling to hear, but not as astonishing as his initial encounter with Clark. "You're an alien."

Clark swallowed. "You're not going to try to dissect me or anything, are you?"

This time, Lex let himself laugh. "Even if I wanted to, my car hit you and there wasn't a scratch on you. You think a scalpel's gonna hurt you?"

"I guess not." Clark squirmed. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Another one?"

Clark smiled for a second, but it faded. "My parents are afraid of people finding out about my abilities because they think I'll get locked away in a lab and experimented on."

"I got that."

"I'm afraid of that, too, but . . . I'm afraid of people at my school knowing, because they'll think I'm weird."

Lex blinked a couple of times, shaking his head. He'd have given anything to have powers, and for everyone at his school to have known all about it. No one would have dared to try to torment him. "Why do you care so much what people think?"

He shrugged. "Do you know what it's like to go through school as a total loser?"

"Yes. But I'm bald, and the son of a world-class bastard. You have _superpowers_."

"I've lived in Smallville my whole life, I know how people think. If people at my school knew about me, they'd think I was some kind of freak. I'm a loser either way."

Lex raised his eyebrows. "Okay, but . . . you've got to be amazing at sports. Isn't that how teenagers get to be popular? Couldn't you have any girl you want?"

"My dad won't let me play football. And Lana won't even look at me."

The way Clark said her name was pretty unmistakeable. Lex was pretty sure Clark was talking about Nell's niece—Lex had met her at the stables. "Lana Lang?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

She was pretty. Definitely the kind of girl Lex would have gone after when he was Clark's age. "Can't knock your taste in women."

"She's with Whitney."

 _Ah._ Lex thought back to the necklace he'd found that night in the cornfield, and the conversation he'd had with Lana, and he put two and two together. Whitney had tied up Clark out of jealousy. Lana must have given Whitney the necklace, who'd put it around Clark's neck to mock him, but Clark had dropped it when he fell from the pole.

Maybe Lex could help him. Clark wanted to be friends, and friends helped each other with things. Lex could help him get Lana, as kind of a wingman. He was pretty sure that was what a good friend would do.

"Stay here," Lex said. "I've got something."

He stood and made his way up to his study, finding the lead box with the green necklace, then brought it down to Clark.

He opened the box. "You give her the necklace and tell her what happened. That'll give you the power."

Clark stared at the necklace, but he didn't look thankful, or happy, or even nervous. Actually, he looked like he was going to throw up or keel over.

"Clark, you okay?"

He winced. "Can you . . . close the box?"

Lex closed it, keeping his eyes on Clark. As soon as the box was closed, Clark let his breath out.

"Uh, weren't you wearing this in the field?"

"Whitney put it on me when he and his friends dragged me out there."

"Huh. You think Whitney knows something you don't?"

"I doubt it." Clark nodded toward the box. "I want to make sure it's not a coincidence. Try opening the box again."

"You sure?"

"Just do it."

Lex opened the box, and Clark doubled over, gasping. Lex snapped it shut and reached out to put a hand on Clark's arm. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Clark straightened up. "I'm fine. But it's definitely the necklace."

"It's weird. It's like you have a weakness."

"I guess so. Maybe it's an allergy."

"So you're allergic to your crush's necklace, but it doesn't bother you when it's inside this box?"

"I guess."

"That's . . . really specific. Maybe it's the materials."

"Maybe."

"The box is lead. What's her necklace made of?"

"The meteor that killed her parents."

"Wow. That's . . ." Lex didn't want to say any of the words that came to mind, so he decided to keep to the subject. "Maybe it's the meteor rocks? Have you had problems around them before?"

"I . . . I'm not sure."

"Isn't Smallville basically covered in meteor rocks?"

"Yeah, but it's not like I keep track of what objects are around me every time I start to feel sick."

"Fair enough." He held the box out to Clark. "I still think you should give the necklace to Lana. You'll win her heart."

"I dunno. I'd feel like I was getting between her and Whitney."

Lex scoffed. "That's the idea. Eliminate the enemy."

"Whitney isn't my enemy."

"He crucified you. He _asked_ to be your enemy. You think Lana should be with a guy like that?"

Clark frowned. "I guess not . . ."

Lex held out the box again, a bit more emphatically. "Take it. You want to play the noble hero, give it to Whitney, or just leave it someplace Lana will find it. She would want her necklace back either way."

"I know, but . . ."

 _Oh._ Of course. "You don't want her to have it."

"I know it's selfish, but I feel so sick every time I'm around her when she's wearing it. It really hurts. And now that I know it's the necklace . . ."

Lex lowered the box. Clark looked so conflicted, Lex almost felt bad for even bringing it up. "Well, you don't have to decide right away. Want me to hang onto it for a bit?"

Clark nodded slowly. "Thanks."

Lex glanced down at his watch. "It's almost 4, won't your parents wonder where you are?"

"No, but they'll get upset if I don't get my homework and chores done, and I have a lot to do." Clark stood from the table.

"I'll walk you out." Lex stood, and they both headed out of the dining room. "I'm, ah, glad I could help you figure out what was causing the problem."

"Yeah, thanks for your help."

Lex bit back a sigh. Maybe he should have tried to make it so the mystery took more time to solve, so he could spend more time with Clark. He wasn't sure what bothered him more—the fact that he was letting such an incredible being, an _alien_ , walk away without getting to learn more about him, or the fact that he might have had a shot at being friends with this kid. His first chance at a real friend in years.

Either way, groveling wouldn't help. "Well, see you around," Lex said.

Clark smiled. "Can I come back tomorrow?"

Lex's heart skipped. He was about to enthusiastically agree, but he held himself back. "Your parents really don't worry about you if you come home late from school?"

"I usually hang out with my friends."

Lex nodded. They had to get this right if he didn't want Clark to be kept away from him more effectively. "Your friends will wonder where you are if you ditch them two days in a row. They'll start to ask questions, and it'll get around to your parents."

"Well, how about I just come to see you on Mondays?"

"No, you can't make it predictable like that. They'll start wondering why you're never around on Mondays."

Clark's brow furrowed. "Then how do I know when to drop by?"

"Well, just come visit when you want to."

"That doesn't work. I want to come tomorrow."

 _Friendship, definitely_. The friendship mattered more to Lex than the fact that Clark was an alien. This was like how he'd imagined having a little brother would be. He would have to keep that in the front of his mind, if he didn't want to let himself get carried away by his curiosity. "I'll let my security guards know that you're allowed to come in any time you like."

"Thanks!"

"But please be careful, alright? I already owe you my life."

"Not anymore. You saved mine, remember?"

"Still don't want you to get into trouble. I don't want anything to stand in the way of our friendship." Lex hoped, again, that he wasn't assuming too much. "Come by next Tuesday. Okay?"

Clark grinned. "Okay."


	5. Secrets

Lex was barely willing to admit even to himself that he was counting the days until Clark's next visit.

He considered visiting the farmer's market that weekend, since he figured the Kents would have a booth—maybe he could take another shot at a better second impression with Jonathan—but he decided against it. The accident would be too fresh in all of their minds, and Lex didn't want to risk letting something slip about Clark sneaking over to the mansion.

Lex still wanted a chance at paying Clark back, though. He made a point of paying a visit to the stables to see Lana later in the week, under the pretense of looking for Nell. He'd dropped by over the weekend with the same excuse, which was when she'd told him about Clark saving Whitney's life.

He waited at the stable for ten minutes before Lana arrived on horseback.

"You again," Lana said, her eyes locking on his. She dismounted and lead the horse the rest of the way in.

Lex half smiled. "Nell around?"

"She's working. I'll tell her you stopped by."

That was obviously an invitation to get out, but he was here on a mission. "How's the quarterback doing?" he asked.

Lana's eyes narrowed. "Why do you care?"

"Because he was in a car accident."

Her nose wrinkled, and her head lowered. "I'm so sorry, Lex. Your, uh, family has a reputation."

"It's quite alright." Lex was used to people assuming he had ulterior motives. His father gave people reason to respond that way all the time. Of course, today, Lex actually did have an agenda, though he liked to think it was a noble one.

"Whitney's doing well, thanks for asking," Lana said. "He was just lucky Clark was there."

"I know the feeling." Lex's heart rate picked up—this was his opening. "Kinda makes you wonder if you're with the right guy. One chucks footballs, the other helps save lives."

Her expression darkened again. "For someone who just moved into town, you've got a lot of opinions."

"You just seem more interesting than that. By the way, did you ever find your necklace?"

"No. What does that have to do with—"

"You should ask your boyfriend what he was doing before the big game."

A slight pause. "He was with me."

Lex gave her a pointed look. "Are you sure?"

Lana looked away, her forehead creasing, and Lex left the stables.

* * *

There was a lift in Clark's step as he strode into Lex's study. It had been difficult to wait a whole eight days to come back to the mansion. Nowhere else could he feel as free to be himself.

He waved at Lex, who was sitting at his desk like last time, then he set his backpack down on the couch before making his way to Lex's desk.

"Hey," Lex said, looking up from his computer and standing. "I've got something for you."

"Really?"

Lex reached into his desk and pulled out the lead box that held Lana's necklace. Then he opened it.

Clark jumped back, holding his hands out in front of him and bracing for the horrible sickness. But it never came. He straightened up slowly, lowering his hands.

Lex chuckled. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. But it's pretty cool, right? You should be able to touch it without any pain."

Clark took a step closer, squinting at the open box. The green necklace still glowed within it, but it didn't have the same effects as before. "What did you do to it?"

Lex smiled and closed the box. "I know a jeweler. One of the best in the world. I had him make you a replica."

"A replica?"

"Yeah, it's a fake emerald that looks exactly like the meteor rock. I know you wanted Lana to have her necklace back, but you didn't want to get sick every time she wears it. I figured this way you can have it both ways."

"You _told_ the jeweler about me?"

Lex raised an eyebrow. "I asked him to make the necklace, and I paid him what he was worth. He didn't ask questions." Lex held out the box. "Give it to her. Or leave it somewhere she can find it, or whatever you want to do."

Clark squirmed. "I don't know, Lex, that necklace is really special to her. It's sentimental. I don't think I could deceive her like that."

Lex nodded slowly. "You like this girl, right? You want to date her?"

"Of course."

"You think you want to marry her?"

"I mean . . ." He was fourteen. Marriage wasn't really on his mind. At the same time, it had been so long, he couldn't imagine ever falling for anyone else. "I guess I do."

"So when you tell her your secret someday, tell her the truth about the necklace. I'm sure she'll understand."

"I . . . I don't think I could tell her my secret."

Lex stared at him for a moment. "You're worried about deceiving her about a necklace, and meanwhile you're already planning to lie to her for the rest of your life?"

It sounded really bad when he said it like that. "Not _lie._ "

"Then what?"

"I just . . . wouldn't tell her the truth."

Lex gave him a look. "Clark, what do you think lying _is?_ "

Clark winced. "It's not like that."

"Look, you have an amazing gift, and you're going to want to use it. You _should_ use it. But the more you do, the more you're going to have to lie about it." Lex rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe it's not my business, and I'm the last person you should ask for advice about long-term relationships, but . . . even I know you don't want to build a marriage on secrets and deception."

This whole thing was spinning out of control, forcing Clark to consider things too far in his future to even imagine. "Okay, maybe I'll tell her about my abilities someday. But I still don't want to deceive her about the necklace."

Lex looked down at his hands, then back up at Clark. "How often do you have to lie to protect your secret?"

"I don't know. Sometimes?"

"If I'd been knocked out when my car hit the water, so I didn't see you use your powers, wouldn't you have lied to me about how we survived?"

"I—I guess."

"And that's okay. You didn't know me, you didn't know if you could trust me." Lex frowned. "Even the great Jonathan Kent must know there's a time and a place for half-truths. I think that necklace qualifies."

It still didn't feel right to Clark. "It's different."

"How?"

Clark began to pace. "Well, it's not safe for people to know about my secret. If word gets out, people will try to take advantage of me or experiment on me. Anyone who knows the truth is in danger."

"Okay, so keeping secrets protects them. And you."

"Exactly."

"I get it. But isn't that what you'd be doing if you gave her a fake necklace?"

Clark shifted his weight. He could see what Lex was saying, but it still didn't feel the same to him. "It kind of protects me. But it doesn't protect her."

"Sure it does, Clark. You don't know what effects the meteor rocks have on people long term. They're alien. For all you know, they could be radioactive or something."

Clark knew what he meant, but Lex's use of the word _alien_ still stung a little.

Based on Lex's grimace, Clark's discomfort must have been visible on his face. "I'm sorry, Clark, I didn't mean—"

"I know." Clark sighed. Judging by Chloe's Wall of Weird, Lex was right about the meteor rocks, anyway. Clark hadn't even considered that. Considering that Greg Arkin had turned into a bug boy from meteor infection, it probably _was_ dangerous for someone to be wearing the meteor rock all the time.

Lex picked the lead box. "Forget it."

The look on Lex's face was so defeated, it hurt to look at. It occurred to Clark that Lex had been trying to give him a gift, and Clark had done nothing but push back. "Lex, I—I really appreciate it. I'm going to give Lana the replica."

Lex's eyes widened. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I think you're right about the meteor rocks. My friend Chloe, she thinks they infect people and sort of mutate them."

"Interesting theory."

"Yeah. She's got a whole wall of newspaper clippings. It sounds crazy, but . . . I mean, it sounds a lot crazier to say I'm an alien."

Lex let out a half laugh. "Have you ever seen it happen?"

"Have I seen someone who was affected by the meteors?" Clark blinked. "You haven't heard about what happened with Greg Arkin this week."

"Who?"

Clark's heart skipped—he could tell Lex what had really happened. Not just the parts of it that the police could know, or even just the parts Chloe knew. He could confide everything.

He breathed in to start telling the story, but stopped himself at the last moment. Just because he _could_ tell the whole story didn't mean Lex wanted to hear it. Lex was twenty-one, and a billionaire, and ran a huge company. He wouldn't want to hear Clark's high school drama—he'd already had to hear Clark talk about Lana. "Um, it's kind of a long story. I don't know if you want to sit in your study and listen to me ramble."

"No, we couldn't have that."

It took Clark a half second to realize Lex was being sarcastic.

"Doritos and Red Vines in the downstairs dining room, if you want them."

Clark shrugged, barely holding back a grin. "I'm more of a Twizzlers guy."

"Now that's gross. I can't believe I'm friends with you."

Clark laughed. "Race you down there?"

"What, are we nine?"

"Come on, I'll give you a head start."

Lex rolled his eyes, but jogged lightly toward the door of the study. Clark raced past him at top speed. He smiled wryly to himself—his dad would kill him if he knew he was showing off like this.

But as Clark passed, he glanced back over his shoulder at the look of wonder on Lex's face. And for the first time in his life, Clark felt proud to call himself an alien.


	6. Rebellion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowing down the viewpoint shifts. This chapter's all Clark, the next one will probably all be Lex.

Clark knew he was already pushing his luck with his secret trips to the mansion. He wasn't sure whether to view joining the football team against his dad's wishes as getting himself into deeper water, or just as something he might as well do, since he was disobeying his dad at least once a week anyway. In some weird way, it made him feel a little better to have his dad be upset with him over something that made some sense for him to be upset about, even if Clark disagreed. It was also nice to have an excuse to be out of the house, though the football practices did mean that Clark wouldn't be able to visit the mansion as often.

But aside from all of that, Clark really liked playing football. It was a challenge to use his strength and speed just enough to win, and just little enough that his advantages would be unnoticed. And with the exception of Whitney, the football players and cheerleaders treated him like he was their friend, instead of looking at him like he was a loser—or not looking at him at all.

Things had gotten complicated quickly, though. The cheating scandal that had led seven football players to be suspended cast Coach Walters into suspicion, and Chloe's computer had burst into flames when the coach approached her, leading her to seek Clark's help in trying to figure out what was really going on. Clark hoped it wasn't another case of meteor rock infection. He'd already encountered that twice this school year, and twice was enough for a lifetime.

Clark visited the Beanery after practice to see if he could find Trevor, the guy who Chloe had asked him to talk to. Between the suspicions about Coach Walters and the awkward, forced interactions he'd been having with his parents ever since he joined the team, Clark was seriously considering quitting football.

Lana greeted him as he walked in the door. "Well, if it isn't Smallville's latest football star."

He was never, ever quitting football. "Let's see how I do tomorrow night. Hey, have you seen Trevor tonight?"

"No, he hasn't been in."

Clark could look for Trevor later. It was just as well—he could use time to decompress. "How are things going here?"

"Today is one of those days I just want to scream."

"Well, for what it's worth, I think it's cool you got this job." He had to force himself to say that part, since half the reason he'd wanted to join football so badly was because she was a cheerleader, and she'd quit cheerleading to come work at the Beanery.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I'm not gonna get to see you play tomorrow. New girl gets the worst shifts."

He tried not to let the crippling disappointment show in his face.

"So, can I get you anything?"

"Um, may I have a cup of coffee?"

"Coming right up," she said.

Clark spotted Lex sitting at a table with a stack of folders. He knew he should probably stay away. If he went to talk to Lex in public, it was possible that his dad might find out. But Clark and Lex talking to each other in a coffee shop wasn't exactly gossip-worthy news, and other than Lana, Clark didn't see anyone around who he knew well enough that they might talk to his dad.

Lex glanced up at him and smiled, and Clark decided to chance it. He took a step closer to the table.

Lex lowered the folder. "Rumor has it Clark Kent joined the football team."

"Rumor's true." Clark sat down across from Lex at the table.

Lex's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Is your dad okay with that?"

"Actually, he freaked out. Told me I couldn't play. I'm surprised with my dad. I mean, he claimed I should make my own decisions, but then when I do, he shuts me down."

"Well, I can't believe I'm saying this, but for once, I kind of agree with him."

Clark scoffed. "Not you, too."

Lex shrugged. "I've seen you run. I can't imagine you on the football field with a bunch of . . . ordinary teenagers."

"I would be careful. I've had to be careful my whole life."

"Sure, but I know how I am when I get competitive."

"Well, I'm not like you, Lex."

His expression darkened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Clark swallowed. Somehow, he had apparently internalized some of his dad's prejudices, and they had slipped out. "Nothing. All I'm saying is, I can control my strength."

"Okay." Lex put his hands up. "I believe you, I'll butt out."

Clark sighed. "You think I should quit?"

Lex shrugged. "It's not like your dad can do anything about it. You can do whatever you want, can't you?"

"I mean, I guess no one can really force anyone to do anything."

Lex half laughed. "Just because you can't feel pain."

Clark's heart skipped, and he lowered his voice still further. "Lex, does your dad hurt you?"

Lex's face paled. "My point is, you have more freedom than most to make your own choices."

"I dunno." Clark's stomach turned. "My dad and I have always been pretty close. I don't want to lose that."

Lex nodded slowly and looked away, but he didn't say anything.

Clark shifted forwards in his seat a little. "What are you working on?"

Lex groaned and opened one of the folders. "I'm trying to figure out which poor bastard should get the axe. My father wants me to cut twenty percent of my work force."

Clark didn't want to think about how his dad would respond when that hit the news. "Any way around it?"

"Once my father's made his mind up, he's not easy to turn around."

Lana arrived with a tray of drinks just then. "If it makes you guys feel any better, you should have seen the look on my aunt's face when I took this job. Not that I was eavesdropping or anything."

Clark was thankful they'd been speaking quietly and vaguely when they'd brought up his secrets.

Lana sat down on the arm of Clark's chair, and her side pressed against his arm, making it difficult for him to think about anything else. "I guess we're all in the same boat," he said.

"No, no. You both stood your ground and are doing what you want, and I caved." Lex smiled and raised his mug. "You two have inspired me."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. Joining the football team and pouring some coffee." It was best not to mention the forbidden friendship, though he'd probably need to talk with Lana about that later. "We're a couple of real rebels."

"Long live the revolution," Lana said with a small laugh.

Lex sipped at his drink.

"How is it?" Lana asked.

He wiped the whipped cream away from his lips and nose. "It's perfect."

"Good." Lana grinned and walked away.

Clark watched her go, then turned back to Lex. "Is that what you ordered?"

Lex examined the mug with amusement, laughter in his eyes. "Not even close."

* * *

On his way out of the Beanery, Clark flagged down Lana. "Hey, um, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

She turned to face him, her sparkling eyes looking right into his. "What do you need?"

Even though her necklace wasn't made of meteor rock anymore, he felt a little sick to his stomach, and it took him a second to form words. "So, uh, my dad doesn't know I'm friends with Lex."

She gave him a wry smile. "And you'd like to keep it that way."

"If you could just . . . not mention it to him."

"I wasn't planning on it. It's not like I see him very often."

"I know, it's just . . . Thanks, Lana."

She frowned. "Clark, are things alright? Between you and your dad?"

"Yeah, of course." The lie slipped out so easily. Lex has been right about lying to Lana. Clark had left the necklace replica where she could find it, but then told himself he would keep the deception to a minimum where she was concerned. He sighed. "It's been a little tense."

"It's just, I know he doesn't want you to play football, and now he doesn't want you to see one of your friends—"

"He's protective. That's all."

"I know, but—" She shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I've just heard so many good things about your family, and it makes me sad to think that you guys have been fighting."

Clark winced. The last thing he wanted to hear from his crush was that she was disappointed in him. "I'm just not sure what to do."

She took a step closer to him. "Well, it sounds like your dad is being overprotective about a lot of things. But maybe it's worth asking yourself, are those things worth losing your relationship with your dad over?"

"Lana!" the Beanery manager called. "Table 5!"

Lana winced. "I've got to go. If I see your dad, I won't say anything." She hurried away, and Clark was left alone.

Clark glanced over at Lex, who was still searching through his file folders. Maybe this whole thing wasn't worth it. As nice as it was to have a friend to talk to, he had always been able to talk to his parents, and he didn't want to lose that. If it really came down to it, and Clark had to choose between his relationship with his dad and his friendship with Lex, he couldn't imagine not choosing his family.

Clark didn't know Lex very well yet, but he knew Lex had been extremely hesitant, at first, to go against Clark's dad's wishes. He didn't think Lex would make him choose between him or his dad. It frustrated Clark to no end that his dad might actually make him choose.

He didn't want it to come down to that, though. Maybe he should rethink football and keep his distance from Lex for a little while, until he could figure things out. Coach Walters wouldn't be happy, but Lex probably wouldn't even notice he was gone. Lex was rich and smart and powerful, and even if his dad was a jerk, he probably had tons of other interesting people to hang out with.

It wasn't as if Clark was his only friend.


	7. Effort

If Lex didn't know better, he could have sworn Clark was avoiding him. Maybe he was just overreacting—it wouldn't have been so noticeable if it weren't for the fact that Lex really didn't have any other friends. But Clark didn't stop by the mansion all week. He was busy with football, Lex knew that, but rumors went around that he'd quit shortly after joining the team, and Lex still didn't hear from him.

He toyed with the thought that maybe Jonathan had found out about their friendship, since Clark and Lex had spoken to each other in public at the Beanery, but that didn't sound quite right to him. Jonathan hadn't shown up at the mansion with a rifle or anything. Lex was sure there would at least be another round of threats if and when Clark's father found out about their secret visits.

Of course, these days, there weren't any secret visits for him to find out about. Lex hadn't specified a time for the next time Clark would come visit him, and Clark just hadn't come. Clark didn't have a cell phone, and he couldn't exactly call the Kents' home line, so there wasn't much Lex could do unless he could think of a very, very good excuse to drop by the farm.

* * *

It came the next week.

Lex's face was plastered on the front of every newspaper in town. Someone had robbed a bank—someone who looked exactly like Lex. The witnesses to Lex's alibi were rock solid, but so were the witnesses to the crime. And Clark had been at the scene of the robbery. That might be a good enough excuse to go to the farm.

Lex overheard Clark's voice as he walked up to their side door: "It doesn't make any sense. I—I've met Lex, he doesn't seem like the type. Besides, he doesn't need the money."

"Clark, come on." That was Jonathan. "You saw him with your own eyes."

"I don't know what I saw."

Martha's voice: "There must be some kind of reasonable explanation for this. I hope."

Lex chose right then to knock on the wall beside the screen door. All three sets of eyes fell on him, but Jonathan was the first to the door. He spoke through the screen. "Why aren't you in jail?"

"Because I was hosting a reception for 200 fertilizer distributors in Metropolis at the time of the robbery."

Mr. Kent crossed his arms. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to talk to Clark. His name was on the witness list."

Clark joined his father at the door, and opened the screen. "Come in," he said.

"No." Jonathan held up a hand. "You can talk to him from there."

Lex sighed. He asked Clark a few questions about what he'd seen, trying the entire time to gauge from Clark's expression what he was thinking, but he couldn't get a reading. It was as if he and Clark were strangers. Clark didn't even resist when Jonathan told Lex to get lost after asking his questions.

Lex hoped that the visit would remind Clark to stop by the mansion, but a week later, when things had cleared up with the bank robbery, Lex still hadn't heard from Clark.

Maybe Clark didn't want to come by because Lex hadn't been a good enough friend. He was sure he could do better. He just had to figure out how.

* * *

His opportunity came when, as predicted, Whitney turned out to be a terrible boyfriend to Lana and backed out of their weekend plans.

Lex put in a good word for Clark with Lana at the Beanery, watched Whitney come in and bail on Lana, gave Lana a look that said _I told you so_ , then left the coffee shop.

He got lucky. Clark was just outside, staring in the window at Lana.

"You know, she's free tomorrow night."

Clark looked up at him.

"Hey, Clark." Lex smiled. "This is the perfect time for you to ask her out."

"She's got a boyfriend, Lex."

 _A boyfriend who crucified you_ , Lex wanted to say, but he'd seen how uncomfortable those kinds of comments seemed to make Clark feel, so he settled on, "A high school boyfriend isn't a husband. He's an obstacle. You know, I bet if you ask Lana to go with you to the Radiohead concert in Metropolis tomorrow, she'll say yes."

Clark glanced back in the window at her. "And if she says yes . . ."

Lex pulled out the tickets. He'd been carrying them around for two weeks, along with a few other items that might impress Clark if the opportunity arose. "I'll give you the tickets."

Clark winced. "I can't."

"The hardest thing in the world is telling the girl you love that you like her. I'll raise the bet. You ask her in the next sixty seconds, you get the tickets, and I'll throw in a round-trip limo ride. Starting now." He made a show of looking at his watch.

Clark shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Please don't make this harder than it has to be."

Lex lowered the tickets. "You're really worried about Whitney."

"It's not Whitney, it's my dad. How would I explain to him how I got the tickets or the limo?"

"Um. Maybe you saved your allowance?"

Clark shook his head. "My family's really struggling financially right now."

"Well, maybe I can help. I was thinking of investing in local—"

"Please stop."

"I—" Lex's voice caught in his throat. "I just thought . . ."

"My dad yelled at me after you left last week."

"For what?"

"For inviting you in."

Lex's stomach turned. "I'm sorry."

"I want to be friends with you, Lex, I just . . . I need to be more careful."

Lex nodded. "I understand."

Clark disappeared into the Beanery, and Lex sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. No wonder Clark had been so hesitant. But Lex had learned his lesson.

He just needed to be find a way to give Clark something Jonathan wouldn't find out about.

* * *

Three weeks later, word got around that Clark Kent was throwing a house party while his parents were away. It was perfect. Lex hired some people to set off fireworks the night of the party, and he paid hefty bribes to the local police station to make sure they stayed far away. Then he headed over to the party.

The loud explosions brought Clark out of the house, as Lex had hoped. He overheard Clark's friend shouting, "Clark, man, how cool is this?"

"Pete, why didn't you just call the cops?" Clark yelled. "It would have been a lot easier."

"Hey, man, I can't claim credit. It wasn't my idea."

Lex stepped up then. "It was mine. Call it a party gift. I hope you like it."

"It's great, I mean, just—"

"Don't worry about the police, it's covered. I know this kind of party can make or break a reputation, and I wanted to make sure yours was a hit." He grinned.

Clark took his arm and pulled him aside. "We need to talk."

Lex's smile fell, and he swallowed hard.

They stepped out away from the crowds, over to the other side of the barn. "Lex, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but . . . my parents are already going to kill me when they find out about this party. It was just supposed to be a few friends. The fireworks are going to make it worse. I could deal with that, but if they find out _you_ were involved? I'm beyond dead."

"Well, do you need help cleaning up?" Lex realized that that was a stupid comment as soon as he said it. With Clark's speed, cleaning wasn't the issue. "They won't find out. I talked to the cops—"

"Sheriff Ethan is friends with my dad. But that's not the point. I don't want to lie to my parents."

Lex lowered his head. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Look, maybe it's better if we just . . ." Clark grimaced.

"It's okay, Clark." His voice cracked.

"Maybe someday, things will be different, and we can be friends again."

Lex nodded. Having a friend had been nice while it lasted. And having known an alien with superpowers—he'd carry that with him for the rest of his life.

"You'll keep my secrets?" Clark asked.

"Of course." Lex had no intention of betraying a being whose abilities and origins were so far beyond him, even if they weren't friends.

"Thanks." Clark let out his breath. "I guess I better get back to the party."

Lex held out a hand. Clark shook it with a sad smile, and Lex returned to his car.

As Lex drove back to the mansion, a dark little voice inside him prompted him to try a different tactic. If Clark's relationship with his dad were already destroyed beyond repair, Clark wouldn't care about making it worse. Or if his dad were to disappear somehow . . .

Lex pushed the temptation aside with a bit of effort. It was his father's influence. It wasn't him. He didn't do things like that.

He was going to get through this. It would hurt like hell, but he'd get through it, just like he'd gotten through losing Julian, and his mom, and Duncan.

 _Maybe someday_ , Clark had said. There was still hope.

Hope would have to be enough.


	8. Jitters

"Please, Dad."

"I already said no."

"But Lex won't even be there."

"This isn't up for discussion."

Clark sank into his chair at the breakfast table, frowning. His dad was being completely unreasonable about this—he wouldn't let Clark go on the field trip to the LuthorCorp plant. Clark already felt like he'd given up something big to preserve his relationship with his dad by cutting off his secret visits to the mansion—he really, really missed talking to Lex—but he couldn't use that argument, since his dad never knew about the visits in the first place. "Everyone else is going."

"When has that argument ever worked?"

"Never," Clark grumbled. "Is this just because you hate Lex?"

His dad raised his eyebrows. "You're already grounded for two weeks for the party. You want a third week for arguing with me?"

"No," Clark grumbled, but he couldn't resist asking, "Is it because of Earl?" Their old employee Earl Jenkins had been hospitalized, and he claimed that it was because of experiments at LuthorCorp.

"No. It's because Lex already knows about your strength, and I don't want him to find out anything else."

Clark looked down. It most definitely would not be helpful to explain to his father that Lex already knew about everything else. Everything except the x-ray vision—they hadn't really talked since that had happened. "Okay, Dad."

"Hey." His dad tousled his hair. "Is this really about the field trip?"

He wished he could tell his dad what it was really about. "It's just . . . school's really boring when everyone's out. There are subs in all my classes and we don't do anything."

His dad's brow furrowed. "You want to stay home?"

Clark sat up straight. "Really?"

"Sure." His dad chuckled. "But you're getting your chores done early."

"Can we play basketball and watch TV?"

"It's not a day off for me, you know."

"How about if I help you with some of your chores? It'll take me, like, five minutes."

Jonathan stared at him a moment, then nodded. "I'd accept that."

Clark grinned.

* * *

Lex was in an offsite meeting when he received news about the situation at the plant. A gunman had taken the field trip group hostage.

Lex drove through a crowd of angry parents and reporters with flashing cameras, through the gates, and checked in with the SWAT team. No injuries yet, but apparently, the gunman—one Earl Jenkins—was demanding to be taken to Level 3, which didn't exist.

As terrified as the kids must be, Lex was almost thankful that it had happened during the field trip. If Clark was in there, he could probably use his powers to salvage the situation somehow. It was weird that Jonathan and Martha weren't among the angry parents, though.

Lex's dad arrived in a helicopter just as the SWAT team finished briefing him. He berated Lex hard, but his tone was cold and unfeeling—the scolding was more for show than anything else. The real punishment would come later, when they were alone at the mansion. Whether it came to blows or just excruciating words, Lex knew his father wouldn't let this go without making sure Lex felt the full weight of his displeasure.

Lex confirmed with his dad to make sure that there really was no Level 3, then he convinced the SWAT team to let him make a phone call to the inside. Gabe Sullivan picked up the phone.

"Gabe, it's Lex."

There was a shuffling sound, and Earl's voice came next. "I've finally got your attention, haven't I?"

Lex cleared his throat. "Earl, this is going to sound like a strange question, but is there a Clark Kent in the room with you?"

"What? No, Clark's not here."

_Oh no._

"Give me that." Lex's father grabbed the phone out of Lex's hand. "Earl, why don't you come out? We've got a lot to talk about."

There was a brief silence—Lex could hear that Earl was responding, but he couldn't make out his words.

"You're sick, Earl," his father said. "Let everyone go. We'll get you help."

The next thing Lex knew, Earl had had another seizure and broken a methane gas valve. Now the whole place was filling up with gas.

Earl shouted at the camera, blaming Lex's father—Lex could at least sympathize with that much—then one of the kids ran up and tried to take the gun away from Earl. The quarterback, actually. He was injured, but they'd gotten lucky—Earl hadn't been startled into firing the gun.

Because it would only take one shot. The whole place would blow, and all of the kids would die.

But maybe if Lex went in and promised to give Earl what he wanted . . .

He couldn't do that. He didn't have the guts. Best case scenario, Earl would care enough about his own preservation not to fire the gun, and Lex would just take a beating before someone could come for him. Worst case scenario, they'd carry his burned, bullet-ridden body out of the plant on a stretcher.

No. Worst case scenario was that they'd carry the _kids'_ bodies out of the plant.

Lex would almost certainly die if he went in there, but he'd die doing something good. Something his father never would have done.

He wondered if Clark would go to his funeral.

"I'm going in," Lex said.

* * *

It had been as perfect a day as Clark could imagine, for being grounded.

Clark slept in an hour later than usual and helped his mom make a late breakfast, then he went out and did some extra chores to free up more of his dad's time. He read in the loft while he waited for his dad to finish up the rest of his work. They played basketball until his dad got tired, then they went in to play checkers, then settled down in front of the TV after dinner.

His dad was flipping channels to get to the game when a news report caught their eye. Earl Jenkins had taken the high school field trip group hostage, along with Chloe's dad. He had a gun, and he'd broken a gas valve—the building was going to blow up any minute.

Lana was in there. Chloe and Pete, too.

"I have to go help." Clark stood from the couch.

"Clark, hang on. Look—the hostages are coming out."

Clark squinted at the screen, which was now showing the field trip group running out of the building. "Why did Earl let them go?"

"Ah, they're saying Lex went in."

Clark's heart pounded. "He's going to get himself killed."

"No, he's not. I'm sure he knows what he's doing."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said about him."

His dad scoffed. "I mean that Earl wanted information about crop experiments that were being done at the plant. I'm sure Lex knows all about them. He's going in there to give him what he wants, and no one will get hurt."

"And what if he doesn't know? What if he just went in there to save the hostages? Who's going to save him?"

"You think he went in there to sacrifice himself? That's not something Luthors do."

Frustration coursed through Clark's veins. "But what if he did?"

"Son, there's an entire SWAT team surrounding the plant, he'll be fine."

"I have to make sure, Dad. I have to go down there."

"Son . . ." He swallowed. "You can't run off every time you hear about something bad happening on the news."

Clark wanted to burst out that Lex was his friend, but all he could say was, "You can ground me as long as you want when I get back, but I'm going."

His dad's eyes pierced his. "Your mom and I will follow you in the car."

Clark smiled, then he raced out of the door.


	9. Hostage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing out a lot of canonical events here, just adding Lex's internal thoughts (plus a few changes). I'm not thrilled about that, because I prefer to just briefly summarize canonical events, and I don't think any amount of internal monologue, no matter how well done, can really add to Michael Rosenbaum's amazing performance in this episode. But, well, the pacing in this chapter was garbage until I went ahead and wrote out all of the events. Then it became really long and I made it two chapters, not that that part matters. I guess the important thing is, I like how it turned out. I think, and hope, that you will, too.
> 
> TL;DR, the next two chapters contain a smaller percentage of actually original content than my usual fare. Sorry not sorry.

Lex's legs felt like wet concrete as he walked to his death.

He tried to swallow against the dryness in his throat, but he couldn't. His arms felt like electricity was coursing through them and tingling in his fingers. The bulletproof vest was thick and awkward and not very comforting—it wouldn't protect him against the explosion that would ensue if Earl fired the gun.

But he kept his head raised and his pace steady. If the fear of pain or death took root in him, he might try to run, and he couldn't do that. He could panic later, if he made it out of this alive. For now, he had to be strong and convincing. Those kids' lives depended on it.

In some ways, he felt ready to die. He'd suffered far more than enough for one lifetime, and he was ready for it to be over. But in others, he desperately wanted more time. Time to contribute to the world; time to become great; time to prove he was a better man than his father.

Of course, dying to save a room full of kids wasn't a bad way to do that.

Lex walked into the room with the hostages, his hands raised halfway. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, and he wondered how obvious it was that his hands were shaking.

Earl scrutinized him. "What kind of man sends is own kid to do his dirty work?"

"I'm not doing anybody's dirty work, Earl. This is my plant." Lex glanced down at Lana, who sat on the floor, cradling the quarterback in her arms. "How is he?"

"He needs a doctor," she said.

Lex looked back up at Earl. "What are we gonna do about these kids, Earl?"

Earl looked down and winced. "I never meant to hurt anybody. I tried talking to your father, but he wouldn't listen to me."

"I know the feeling." Lex finally managed to swallow, and he took off his bulletproof vest—he hoped Earl would take it as a show of good faith, even though he wasn't really any safer with it on. "Earl, you say that everybody's been lying to you. I'm gonna tell you the truth. My father doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anybody in this room. Because if we all die, his P.R. firm will spin it, his insurance company will pay out, and you, Earl, will go down as the bad guy."

Earl shook his head. "I'm not the bad guy. I'm just trying to get better."

Lex forced his voice to stay soft and gentle. "How are you gonna get better by killing a bunch of kids?" He took a step forward, the most difficult step he'd ever taken. "If you let everybody go, I'll take you to Level 3."

Earl raised the gun and pointed it. "You stop lying."

"Let them go, and I'll show you where it is." Lex was sure his heart had never pounded harder in his life than it did now. "Earl, trust me. I'm a man of my word."

An agonizing pause, and then Earl whispered, "Get out."

Lex's breath caught. He'd done it. The kids would be safe.

Earl whirled around suddenly, shouting at the kids. "Get out! Get out! _Everybody, get out!_ "

Lex loosened his tie and tugged at his collar as they went. As soon as they were gone, he was going to have to tell the truth. He sat on a bench facing away from Earl, and he wondered how much it would hurt to die.

"Alright, I've done my part," Earl said. "Now it's time for you to do yours."

Lex couldn't even bring himself to turn around and look Earl in the face. Adrenaline was past tingling in his limbs—it was burning. His arms and legs were numb. "Earl, there is no Level 3. It's all in your head."

The back of Lex's head exploded with pain. He shouted and dropped to the ground, gripping his head, but Earl grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet, yelling at him. Lex barely heard the words. In that moment, there was nothing but the excruciating fire where Earl had hit him.

A voice over the intercom: "Earl, I found Level 3! They built a wall in front of the elevator, but it's still here."

Earl dragged Lex over to the intercom. "Stop playing with me!"

For just a moment, Lex was aware of his surroundings again. That was Clark's voice on the internet. How had Clark known to come? More importantly, could he survive an explosion? Lex didn't want to find out. "Get out of the building, Clark!"

Earl shoved Lex away. Lex hit the floor, and the pain in his head redoubled.

Earl yanked Lex to his feet by his arm, then walked him down the halls of the plant by the back of his shirt. Lex didn't try to pull his arm away to escape, but he did try to pull it away a couple of times to grip at the back of his head, which throbbed so fiercely he could hardly think about anything else.

They arrived at a wall that had apparently caved in—Lex wondered if Clark had punched it out—revealing an elevator. There were only two buttons in the elevator—until Earl touched the space beneath the button for level 2, and a 3 lit up.

The pain in Lex's head died suddenly.

They arrived at Level 3—an empty warehouse with a catwalk extended over it—and Earl shoved Lex to the floor. He landed hard on his hands and knees, but he didn't care about that.

Level 3 was here. His dad knew about it.

And he'd _let_ Lex walk to his death.

Lex was vaguely aware that Earl was still yelling at him, that he was still trapped with an angry gunman in a building filling with gas, but none of it mattered in the slightest about that. His dad had lied to him and let him go into this building to die. Now he didn't even care if he did die—he cared that _his father didn't care._

Lex had known that he was going to be punished for allowing the media circus at the plant, but death seemed like a steep price to pay. He knew his dad had hated him since Julian died, and probably before that. He just didn't realize how much.

Or maybe it wasn't about Lex—maybe it was about keeping Level 3 quiet. It didn't surprise Lex that his father had been willing to let his son die to protect that secret, but he'd been willing to risk the lives of a room full of kids, too. This was a new low for him.

Earl paced on the catwalk over the warehouse. "I told you it was here. Huh? Where is . . . where is everything? There used to be . . . there was a field of corn. With sprayers all over it. And every night, they'd spray this green mist on it. What have you done with it?"

Green mist—could it have to do with the meteor rocks? Lex didn't like the sound of that, considering he was still counting on Clark to save him. "I don't know. They lied to me, too, Earl. I had no idea this was here."

"Earl."

Clark had arrived. Lex let his breath out. He was going to live. Unless . . . unless Clark thought Lex had known about Level 3 all along.

"Let's go back upstairs and talk about this," Clark said.

"It's all gone, Clark," Earl said. "How am I gonna get better if I don't know what poisoned me?"

"I didn't know about this place, Clark," Lex said, desperate. "You've got to believe me."

"I believe you, Lex."

"He's lying! He's just like his father!"

Earl's hand began to shake, and Clark ran forward at his top speed and tapped him on the forehead. Earl collapsed onto the catwalk, and Clark took a step back, grimacing.

Lex's voice caught in his throat as he looked from Earl to Clark, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. Then he straightened up. "You okay?"

"Yeah. But that hurt," Clark said. "I think Earl was infected with meteor rocks. I think there's still trace amounts in his skin."

Lex nodded slowly. "What are you going to tell him when he wakes up?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he just saw you run at top speed."

"He probably won't remember the last thing he saw before he passed out. But even if he does, everyone already thinks he's crazy. They won't believe him."

Lex clenched his teeth—something about that answer made him uncomfortable, but he didn't want to think about it too deeply right now. Right now, he just wanted to focus on the fact that he was alive.

Lex looked up at Clark. "Thanks," he said.

Clark nodded. "You, too."


	10. Whispers

Clark couldn't stand to touch Earl for longer than a moment, so they left him on the catwalk, and Lex promised to let the SWAT team know to go pick him up.

For a moment, the air outside tasted sweet, as Lex exited the plant in one piece. But gratitude only lasted a moment.

Lex glanced around at the activity outside the plant—the few remaining teenagers and their parents, the police taking reports from the employees who had been taken hostage, the SWAT team packing up to go, the camera crews. And his father, right in the center of it all.

Lex breathed in to ask if Clark might want to catch up later, but before he could get the words out, Clark had raced off to meet his parents. Lex sighed. He knew it was coming, but that didn't make it less painful to abruptly lose his friend again.

Lex approached an officer to let him know where Earl was, then he confronted his father. He didn't bother with pretense. "You lied to me."

His father gave him an almost amused look. "No. No, I didn't. I said Level 3 wasn't on any plans. It wasn't. It's plausible deniability."

"What were you doing down there?" _What secret could be worth my life?_

"Doesn't matter. It was a failure. We closed the door and moved on."

"You almost got me killed."

"No, you almost got yourself killed. It was your call, remember?"

Lex had never been so livid in his life. He could feel his pulse in his fingers, in the whites of his eyes.

"Mr. Luthor!"

Reporters. Lex's dad muttered, "I'll handle this."

"Mr. Luthor, what can you tell us about Level 3?"

"I think you're referring to a redundant storage area at the base of the plant. Mr. Jenkins is a very sick man who desperately needs medical attention—"

There was Lex's chance. He could do something good, something his father would never do, and stick it to him at the same time. "That's why my father and I have pledged to find Mr. Jenkins the best medical care possible. He was a LuthorCorp employee, and here at LuthorCorp, we always put family first. Isn't that right, Dad?" He knew he was going to suffer for that one. He just didn't care.

A reporter asked, "Mr. Luthor, is it true that the government is trying to shut you down?"

"No, no, no. No more questions, please. My son has been through quite an ordeal today." With that, Lex's father pulled him into a hug.

Lex had known punishment was coming. He just couldn't have imagined that it would be like this.

There had been times of his life when Lex would have killed to feel his father's true embrace, but that's not what this was. This was torment. He had Lex pressed lightly against his chest, tauntingly close, but he patted his back just a little too hard and at uneven intervals, limbs stiff. Holding everything Lex desperately needed and wanted at the surface of his skin, but keeping it back.

Lex remembered the way his mother's arms around him had made him feel. Like her embrace was a whisper in his ear:

_You are safe._

_You are loved._

_You are mine._

This embrace whispered something else entirely.

_I could love you. But I don't. I never will._

_I am repulsed by you._

_You are worth nothing._

The fear and adrenaline of walking into the plant had been nothing. The pistol whipping had been bearable. The threats from Earl, no problem. This—this was true pain. Lex couldn't have imagined worse.

Then he spotted the Kents, maybe twenty feet away. Hugging and laughing, deep love and affection in their eyes. The knife in his heart twisted, and it was all Lex could do to hold back his tears.

Lex could have had a family like that. Parents and a little brother who loved him. Maybe his mother's health wouldn't have been so bad if not for the trauma of losing her younger son. If Lex hadn't killed Julian, maybe she'd be alive, too.

He deserved this pain. Deserved to be so alone.

That didn't mean he could stand it.

His father let him go after a bit, as soon as he was sure the reporters weren't watching. "See you at the mansion," he said before walking away, and Lex's eyes fell closed. That meant more punishment. Lex was torn between fear and indifference. The thought of any more pain on top of what he'd already experienced today was terrifying, but whatever his father had in mind, it couldn't be worse than what he'd already been through.

A light tap on the shoulder broke him out of his trance. He turned to find Clark.

"Hey. Glad you're alright." With that, Clark pulled him into a hug.

All of the pain Lex had been through that day paled in comparison with the joy of that moment.

The embrace was tight enough that Lex couldn't pull in a breath. Lex realized that Clark must actually have been holding back quite a bit, but he had still underestimated his strength, and his grip hurt. It was awkward—Clark had one arm over and one under, and his face pressed oddly against the side of Lex's head. It was also somehow both too long and too short at the same time.

But God, if it wasn't a real hug. It whispered something Lex hadn't heard in far too long.

_You're my friend._

_I care about you._

_I'm glad you're safe._

Lex's eyes stung, and he blinked a few times as he let go. "I guess I have to thank you for saving me. Again."

"I should be thanking you."

Lex shook his head. "You were the real hero today."

"That's pretty self-centered, Lex. I only saved you and Earl. You saved, like, fifty people. Besides, I barely risked anything, but you would have died in there."

That wasn't technically false, though Lex was sure his father could think of another way to spin it.

Clark looked him right in the eyes. "Thank you for saving my friends."

Lex swallowed against the tightness in his throat. "Your dad going to be okay with you talking to me?"

Clark scoffed. "No. He didn't even really want me to come to the plant tonight. I'm probably getting the worst grounding of my life."

Lex nodded. He'd expected as much, but it was still hard to hear. "I guess this is good bye."

Clark's voice lowered. "No way. The minute he springs me, I'm coming over."

"Really?"

"I miss you way too much. I have _so much_ to tell you about."

Lex's throat tightened as euphoria flooded through him. "I'll be sure to have Twizzlers around."

"I thought you hated them."

"I do. They're disgusting."

Clark grinned. "You're the best."

Lex returned the smile.

"See you soon, Lex."

"See you."

Lex watched Clark return to his parents. The look on Jonathan's face was far less than pleased, but if Clark could face his dad, Lex could face his own, whatever the night brought.

He wasn't alone. His best friend was coming back.


	11. Non-negotiable

Clark sat miserably on his bed, waiting for his dad to come in to talk to him.

He knew he was in for it. First the party, then running off to the plant while he was grounded, and going over to talk to Lex right after his father had told him to stay put.

On the Kent farm, groundings weren't really about length. They were about severity. Clark generally had a lot of freedom in his life, so there were quite a few degrees of restriction, ranging from just having to come home right after school rather than hanging out with friends, to having to complete hours upon hours of extra chores and being confined to his room with no books or electronics whenever he wasn't working. Clark knew his dad could put him to work on some pretty horrible chores, and not all of them were helped much by his powers.

He knew he was in for the worst of the worst tonight. The wait was killing him.

He quietly opened the door of his bedroom, then sat just outside of it. There, he could hear the conversation his parents were having downstairs.

"He was trying to help, Jonathan," his mom said.

"I specifically told him not to go. He can't run off every time someone's in danger."

"He did save Earl and Lex."

"I know, but that wasn't his job. There was a whole SWAT team outside the plant."

"He's going to want to use his powers, honey. You're not always going to be able to stop him."

"He's _fourteen!_ "

"Exactly—he's old enough to want his independence and young enough to need our guidance. These are _critical_ years, Jonathan."

Clark usually hated it when adults talked about him like that, but he had to appreciate that his mom was trying to defend him.

Unfortunately, his dad wasn't having it, apparently. "He needs to know we're still in charge. We need to lay down the law."

"If we do that, we're going to set ourselves up as as his enemies. And I'm not talking about teenage rebellion. This is part of who Clark _is._ It's part of who we _want_ him to be."

It was quiet for a long time. Clark's heart pounded in his ears.

Finally, his father sighed. "Okay. But I still want there to be rules for him."

"That's fair. What do you have in mind?"

"He needs to stay away from the Luthors."

A short pause. Clark held his breath.

"I'm not backing down on this one, Martha."

"I understand, honey, I remember what happened with Lionel. It's just that . . ."

"What?"

"Well, you saw them talking after they came out of the building."

"I did. Right after I told Clark not to talk to him."

"I know, but I wonder if . . . I don't know, maybe they could be good for each other."

"He knows Clark's secret. And he was raised by _Lionel_."

"That's exactly why I think a friendship between them could be good. It would give Clark someone closer to his age to talk to, and it would give Lex a better influence in his life."

Clark let his breath out. It was a little too loud.

His father's voice came a second later. "CLARK!"

_Oh, crap._

"You'd better not be eavesdropping up there."

Clark scrambled into his room and closed the door behind himself—again, a little too loud. _Great_. He was already in trouble, and he'd just made things worse for himself.

He paced in his room for another half an hour before a knock came at the door. Clark went over to open it, and his dad stepped inside, sitting down on a chair as Clark sat on his bed.

"Son, what did I say when you told me you were going to the plant?"

Clark sighed. It seemed that his mom had lost this argument. "You said I couldn't run off every time I saw something I didn't like on the news."

"And what did you say?"

"Uh . . ." Clark swallowed. "I said you could ground me as long as you wanted when I got home."

His father reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "That's not what I want our relationship to be, son. Heck, that's the _last_ thing I want."

Clark lowered his head, his heart pounding slow and hard.

"Every parent wants to know their kid is going to be safe. They also want to know their kid can reach their full potential. With you, Clark . . . well, I know you. You want to help people. And you're going to want to use your abilities to do that more and more as you get stronger and faster."

Clark could only nod. He'd taken down the occasional bully when he was a kid, but now that he'd found more and more occasions to use his abilities to save people, he felt like he'd never had more purpose.

His father gave him a sad smile. "I'm not going to be able to convince you you're too young to start, am I?"

Clark looked up. "If I see that I can help, and I just don't . . . what would that make me?"

"Fourteen."

Clark shrugged. "I guess I don't see what that has to do with it."

"If you were an ordinary kid, I'd say the difference is that you don't have the wisdom and maturity to make the tough calls yet. And while I think that's still true . . . you're not an ordinary kid."

"I wish I was."

"I don't. You're going to help a lot of people."

Clark let himself half-smile.

His dad's eyes pierced his. "Clark . . . in the eyes of the law, and everyone else we know, I'm your father. But we both know, your, ah, origins, and your abilities . . . it's all beyond me."

" _Dad_." He hated when his dad talked like this. "It doesn't matter. You're my father, I don't care where I was born, I don't care what I can do. You _are_ my father."

"Then . . . then let me be your father. I know I can't stop you, and God knows I never want to fight against you, but if I say it's too dangerous, if I say to back off . . ."

"Okay, Dad." Clark didn't know if he'd always be able to obey, but he was willing to try, for his dad's peace of mind. "Okay."

"Good." His dad clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you."

Clark smiled.

"And, um . . . look, son, I know you're not going to like this, but I've really got a bad feeling about Lex."

Clark shifted his weight. It was worth trying to discuss this. "I have sort of a good feeling about him. I think he could be a good friend."

"Clark—"

"Dad, you're always the one saying we're supposed to see the good in people. We're not supposed to look at the past, and we're supposed to give everyone a chance."

"I know, I know, son, but the Luthors are different."

"Why?"

"Because anyone knowing your secret is dangerous, but the Luthors have the power to make your life very complicated. And it's exactly the kind of thing Lionel would do."

"Lex isn't Lionel."

"Lionel is the only person who's had any influence on who Lex has turned out to be."

"Then why did risk his life to save those kids at the plant tonight?"

"I'm sure he knew where Level 3 was."

Clark didn't even know how to respond to that. It seemed so obviously false to him that he didn't know how to put it into words. So he tried a different tactic. "Lex already knows my secret. If he already knows, isn't it safer to be friends with him than to make him hate me?"

"I'm not asking you to make him hate you. I'm asking you to stay away from him, so there's no chance he'll ever have the opportunity to hate you. No, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. This is my one non-negotiable rule."

Clark felt a little like he usually did when he stood too close to a meteor rock. "Thought you said you didn't want to fight against me."

"Are you going to fight me on this?"

Clark grimaced.

His dad took a deep breath. "I don't want to fight you. But this is the one area I will. You need to trust my gut when it comes to the Luthors. As your father, I'm telling you to stay away from them. There will be consequences if you disobey me."

Clark nodded, trying to keep his expression as neutral as he could. "Um, how long am I grounded for . . . what I did at the plant?"

"Right. Uh, Clark, you saved Earl's life tonight. And for that—"

"And Lex's."

His father nodded, though he looked uncomfortable. "And Lex's. Your mom and I . . . we're very, very proud of you."

Clark grinned. His mom hadn't completely lost this argument after all. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're going to have a few extra chores tomorrow morning for eavesdropping on our conversation tonight, but other than that, we're not going to punish you for disobeying this time."

"No extra grounding?"

"No, and . . ." His dad took a deep breath. "As a one-time reward, you're off the hook for the party."

Clark could never have believed his luck. He wanted to throw himself into his father's arms, but he'd felt weird about doing that since he'd reached middle school. So instead, he just grinned.

" _One time_ , Clark."

"I hear you. Thank Mom for me."

His dad chuckled and gave him a playful swat on the shoulder, then said, "Get some sleep. I'm waking you up at five."

"Okay." He tried to keep his tone casual as he said, "So, I can hang out with my friends after school tomorrow?"

"You're not grounded, you can do whatever you like as long as you get your homework and chores done."

Clark's stomach turned, and he hoped his smile looked real to his dad. It needed to be as convincing as possible. Clark was going to have to get a lot better at lying, if he was going to keep visiting Lex.

And whatever his dad said, he was _definitely_ going to keep visiting Lex.


	12. Internship

Lex expected to wait at least a month before he saw Clark again. The last thing he was expecting was for Clark to enter his study the next afternoon.

Lex didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he couldn't resist asking, "What, you sneak out?"

"I'm not grounded." Clark plunked down on one of the leather couches as Lex made his way over from the desk. "Mom talked my dad out of it, since I saved Earl's life."

"And mine."

"Yeah, but I think that part might have actually worked against me." Clark smiled wryly.

Lex sat down on the couch across from his friend. "Does your dad know you're here?"

"He'll kill me if he finds out."

A mix of emotion flooded through Lex. On the one hand, it was discouraging to have it confirmed that there was nothing he was going to be able to do to win Jonathan's favor. It was also frustrating to know that he was getting in the way of Clark's relationship with his parents. At the same time, it was incredibly validating to know that Clark wanted to be his friend enough to face the risks. "It's good to have you back, Clark."

"It's good to be here. Have you heard anything about how Earl's doing?"

"He's in the hospital. I spoke to him this morning and told him there were residual airborne hallucinogens from the experiments in Level 3 that might have caused him to see strange things before he passed out."

"So you lied to him."

"It was kinder than letting him think he was going insane. Or would you have preferred I told him the truth?"

Clark winced, but Lex was confident he'd made the right call on this one. It was the best way to protect Clark.

"So," Lex said, "what's new with you?"

"Oh! I've been wanting to tell you . . ." He glanced back at Lex's desk, squinted for a second, then looked back at Lex. "That's weird, you keep your desk almost empty. A few file folders, one marked 'Earl Jenkins.' A little bit of cash. And you've still got that lead box—I'm guessing it has Lana's necklace?"

Confusion and a bit of fear gripped Lex. "Did you break in here earlier?"

"No. I have X-Ray vision now."

Lex swallowed hard. He didn't want Clark to think he had things to hide, but he ran a plant with over two thousand employees, and the mansion stored personal employee information as well as trade secrets. "That's . . . that's incredible, Clark, but uh, can you control it?"

Clark frowned. "Yes. Why?"

"I, ah . . . I'd appreciate if you ask before looking through my things . . ."

"Oh! Sorry." Clark shifted a little in his seat.

It was quiet, and for a moment, Lex worried he might have offended his younger friend. It had never occurred to him before that he really wasn't sure how to talk to teenagers. He tried again. "X Ray vision. That's amazing. How did you realize you had it?"

Clark perked up. "Actually, it was when I was watching your doppelgänger rob that bank. He—uh, she—had a . . . green skeleton."

Lex blinked, but found he had lost the ability to be truly surprised. "Meteor rock?"

"Yeah. That's why she could throw me."

"Right." The police reports had mentioned that. "Sorry."

Clark shrugged. "Didn't hurt. I used the x-ray vision last night, too, by the way. To find the elevator to Level 3."

"That explains a lot."

Clark nodded, then he looked Lex right in the eyes. "Thanks again for going into the plant last night."

"Again, _you_ saved _my_ life."

"But you saved Chloe, and Pete, and Lana . . . "

Lex shrugged. "Taking care of that plant was my responsibility. Helping me wasn't yours."

"I'm just glad I was able to do anything, with the traces of meteor rock in Earl's skin."

Lex didn't like to think about what would have happened if Earl had been infected by a higher concentration of the meteor rocks. Clark might not have been able to knock him out, and he might have still shot Lex, or his seizure might have destroyed the catwalk, or he might have continued to try to hold Lex hostage for more information from Lex's father—information he'd never receive.

The look on Clark's face was as though he was worried about the same thing. "Um, Lex . . . I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"I want help figuring out what I can do. My dad said he was okay with me running off to save people if I feel like I need to, but he also said I was kind of too young to be making tough calls."

"Okay . . ." Lex wasn't sure if he was the best source of wisdom, but he was willing to hear out the full request.

"Yesterday, I went into that plant blind. And I'd do it again if I had to, but I'd love to have a better idea of what I'm up against. I know the meteor rock makes me sick, and I know it doesn't bother me if it's surrounded by lead, but I don't know . . . like, how close it has to be to affect me. Or how much there has to be."

Lex nodded slowly. "You want to experiment with it?"

Clark shifted forward in his seat a little. "I want to know more about my abilities and my weaknesses. Do you have access to science equipment?"

Lex didn't, not currently, and he couldn't get access without spending a fair amount of money. Of course, what was the point of having money if not to take advantage of opportunities like this? Still, Lex wasn't quite comfortable with what Clark was asking for. "Clark, remind me why your dad's so nervous about people finding out your secret."

"He doesn't want scientists to—" Clark sighed. "Experiment on me."

Lex's brow furrowed. "You realize you're asking me to experiment on you."

"It's different. I know you won't hurt me."

"I _will_. For whatever reason, those meteor rocks are your weakness. Experimenting with them will be painful for you, there's no avoiding that."

Clark winced. "But you're not gonna take advantage of me or try to do anything I'm not okay with."

"How do you know?"

"I trust you."

"How do you know you can trust me?"

"I'm a good judge of character."

That wasn't good enough for Lex. He needed to know that Clark would be more discerning when it came to trusting people. "You haven't known me for long, Clark, and I've got my father's blood running through my veins. He would have let all of your friends die last night."

"And you saved them."

It was quiet for a moment, then ideas started running through Lex's mind. He didn't want to admit that some part of him had wanted to do this with Clark since he'd first met him. Though he worked in business, he was a scientist at heart—curiosity drove him. Of course, Lex wouldn't have pushed Clark into doing anything he wasn't comfortable with, but now that Clark had asked for it . . . "Okay. But I'm not bringing in an outside scientist."

"Of course not."

"I'll start working on systematizing the experiments. They might take a little time to perform."

"That's okay."

Lex stood and began to pace. "You're gonna need a better cover story."

Clark frowned. "What did you have in mind?"

Lex grinned. "I'd like to offer you a job."

* * *

Clark sat quietly throughout most of dinner that night, letting his parents do most of the talking. He really, really didn't like lying to his parents, but his dad hadn't given him much choice.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" his mom asked after he'd been completely silent for a few minutes.

"Yeah," Clark said. "Just, uh . . . I wanted to ask you guys about something."

"What's on your mind, son?" His dad put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Um . . . I didn't tell you before, because I didn't think I was going to get in, but I applied for an internship, and . . . I got it."

His dad blinked and let go of his arm, and his parents exchanged a look. "An internship?" his dad asked.

"Yeah." Clark swallowed. "At Cadmus Labs. They're based out of Metropolis, but they're opening a branch just outside of Smallville, and they were looking for student interns, and, uh . . . ever since I found out where I came from, I've been really interested in knowing more about science, so I applied, and I guess my grades were good enough." Lex had made him rehearse the speech over and over again. It wasn't coming out exactly the way he had practiced it, but he hoped it still sounded convincing enough.

His dad's eyebrows raised. "Well, that's terrific. But, uh—"

"They want me to come in for a few hours after school on Mondays and Wednesdays, starting tomorrow. I'll still make sure to get all my chores and homework done."

His dad nodded. "Would this be for school credit?"

"Uh, no, but it's paid." The hourly rate negotiations had been weird—Clark had actually had to talk Lex down, from forty an hour to twenty. Lex had agreed, on the condition that he was going to make sure Clark was awarded a full ride to whatever college or university he wanted to attend.

"Wow. That's great." Clark's dad put a hand on his arm. "I'm proud of you, son."

"Thanks, Dad." Clark smiled.

They'd bought it. He was free.


	13. Proximity

Clark arrived a few minutes early for his first day of his fake internship. Lex had cleared out a space in his house—it was the size of a ballroom, and Lex said he was the only one with a key to the room—and filled it with scientific equipment. A lot of it looked like things Clark had seen in hospitals, but there was also a treadmill, and lots of screens, and boxy machines that Clark didn't recognize.

"Did you just get all of these?" Clark asked as he paced around the makeshift science lab, glancing around at all of the machines.

"Yeah. I've been reading up on how to use all of them. It'd be easier to bring in real doctors and scientists, but we'll make do."

Clark nodded. "So what do I need to do?"

"The first thing we're going to do is talk." Lex took a seat at a workbench.

Clark sat down across from him. "Okay. About what?"

"About honesty."

"Honesty?"

"Yeah. I need you to be honest with me if something is too much for you."

"Uh . . ." Clark shifted in his seat. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you're curious, and that curiosity is going to make you want to push yourself. But I'm as curious as you are, and when we get into this, I can't trust myself to cut off the experiments just because you're hesitant. If something hurts . . . you need to tell me outright to stop."

"It's _going_ to hurt. You already said that. We're using meteor rocks, right?"

"I know, but . . . you know what I mean. Don't push yourself. I can't have you getting injured. I'm not a doctor, and we can't even call your parents in to help."

Clark wasn't sure it was possible for him to be injured, but then again, they _were_ planning on pushing his outer limits. "Okay. I'll be honest."

Lex nodded. "Let's begin."

They started with some preliminary tests. Lex taped a couple of sensors to Clark's arm and clipped one to his finger to get his heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature. They were all surprisingly normal for a human, though his temperature ran warmer. Lex also gave him a little device that was supposed to measure hand strength, and told him to squeeze the sides with just his thumb and index finger—the reading was off the charts, so he switched to his pinky. Then he read him a string of numbers and asked him to repeat them back, saying it was a cognitive test. Lex also gave him a short burst of electricity through his arm—enough to cause moderate pain but not injury to a human—but Clark could barely feel it.

"Do you have an x-ray machine?" Clark asked.

"No point, since I don't know how to use one or what to look for."

"Can I . . . uh . . . can I look at your bones and compare them to mine? I won't . . . look at anything you wouldn't want me to see." He'd seen plenty of guys in the locker room showers during his brief time on the football team, but this felt different somehow. He realized he was asking Lex to trust him quite a bit, but that was a big part of what they were doing.

"Ah . . . sure." Lex stood up.

Clark took a look at Lex's skeleton, then looked down at his own, glancing back and forth. There were no major differences that he could see, though it was hard to tell if the material was the same. The muscles were a different story. They were in all of the same places, and had the same overall shape, but didn't seem to be made up of the same material at all—Lex's were smoother, while Clark's almost appeared to be corded. He couldn't get much information from looking at the other internal organs, since he didn't know very much about biology, but he just seemed to have more systems going on inside him than Lex had.

Lex nodded through Clark's descriptions, then said, "You know, it's not really x-ray vision, if you can see all of that," Lex said. "That's not how x-rays work."

Clark shrugged. "I don't know what else to call it. The only people who would correct me are you and my parents."

"Fair enough. Ready to start with the meteor rock?"

"What are we going to do?"

"Now that we have baseline numbers for your vitals, we're going to test them again with the meteor rock at different distances from you."

"Are you using Lana's necklace?"

"That's all I have right now. For later tests, I might need to find more meteors."

"Okay." Clark set his jaw.

"We're starting the testing at a distance of thirty feet." Lex picked up the lead box and walked across the room. He set down the box at a marked distance. "I'm gonna open the box. You ready?"

Clark swallowed hard. "Ready."

Lex opened the box, and Clark almost laughed aloud. "Nothing," he said.

"Let's check on that." Lex walked back to the workbench, looking at his computer screen. "Temperature and blood pressure are normal. Heart rate is up."

"Sorry. I got nervous," Clark said.

"Try the force sensor?"

Clark squeezed the device as hard as he had before, and Lex nodded, then gave him a sequence of numbers, which Clark repeated back. The burst of electricity was as harmless as it had been without the meteor rock.

"Okay. Down to twenty feet."

Twenty feet was a similar story. The readings were all the same—the only difference was that Clark could feel the electricity a little more. At fifteen feet, he was starting to feel a little weaker; it didn't make him sick or affect his blood pressure or temperature, but the force he was able to put on the sensor with his pinky was down to eighty percent, and the burst of electricity was distinctly uncomfortable.

"You want to go to ten?" Lex asked.

Clark swallowed. "Do it."

Ten feet was interesting. His blood pressure and heart rate went up just a little, his temperature stayed the same, and he didn't feel sick, exactly. But when he tried to push on the force sensor with his finger, it barely moved.

Lex looked up from the computer. "Huh."

"What?"

"That's how much force _I_ can put on it when I use that finger. Sure you want the electricity?"

Clark grimaced. "How bad is it?"

Lex took the electric probe from Clark and hit the button for the pulse. He winced. "It hurts. Not too bad. It's short."

Clark took back the probe. "I want to know how it affects me. Do it."

Lex shrugged and hit the button.

Sharp, intense pain shot through his arm. Clark yelled aloud, then breathed hard. "You said it wasn't too bad!"

" . . . _Oh._ " Lex gave a short laugh. "Sorry, Clark. I should have realized."

"Realized _what?_ "

"Well, it's not your fault, but you have no pain tolerance."

Clark didn't like hearing that, even if he knew it was true. It made him sound weak. He gritted his teeth. "Move the rock to five feet."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Lex moved the rock, and Clark's muscles tensed. He felt sweaty and nauseous, and his legs felt weak.

"Heart rate's up. Blood pressure, too, and you're at 102 degrees. Try the force sensor?"

Clark pressed on it, but nothing happened.

"Not getting much of a reading," Lex said.

"The electricity?"

"I'm not doing that."

"I want to know the effects."

Lex shook his head. "You know the effects. It's going to hurt."

"We wanted to test my capabilities, Lex."

"What are you trying to prove?"

"I need to know what I can do."

"Then . . . try the x-ray vision."

Clark squinted. He couldn't see a thing. "It's not working. I want to test my invulnerability."

Lex rubbed his forehead and sighed before pressing the button.

Excruciating shockwaves brought Clark to his knees. As soon as he was able, he dropped the electric probe, but he picked it back up again once he had control of himself. "I'm okay," Clark gasped. "I can keep going."

"Too bad. I'm cutting this off." Lex picked up the lead box, stalked over to the meteor rock, and placed the rock inside, snapping the box shut.

The pain and discomfort died away immediately, and Clark breathed hard. But he wouldn't have quite called the feeling relief. "I said I was okay!"

"I'm not going to hurt you just to prove you can feel pain." Lex set the lead box down on his desk.

"I don't want to stop the experiments."

"We won't. But we should find another way to do it. Obviously, the effects increase with closer proximity. If I had to guess, I'd say it's some kind of inverse relationship."

"And we don't understand it."

"No, but this won't help with that. We get the point—when the meteor rock is close to you, it affects your strength and invulnerability. Let me work on an experiment to help you get around it. In the meantime, you should go home and get some rest. I'll still pay you for the full time."

Clark swallowed hard. He was supposed to be here for three hours, and it hadn't even been one. Part of him felt begrudgingly thankful to have someone who cared about him enough to cut things off before he really hurt himself, and part of him felt frustrated with himself for pushing too hard. Of course, a bigger part of him was frustrated with Lex. What had he been _expecting_ to happen?

But most of him just felt disappointed. He'd really been looking forward to the time with his friend.

"Let me stay?" Clark asked. "Please. My parents aren't expecting me until six."

"No. You're done for the day. Go rest."

"Not to experiment, just . . . to hang out."

"Oh!" Lex's expression relaxed a little. "Of course. Up into the dining room?"

Clark stood up and followed him. "Actually not hungry. Can you teach me how to play pool?"

"Sure." They walked in silence for a moment, then Lex said, "Meet anyone infected by meteor rocks in the time since we last talked?"

 _Right_. It had been awhile. "I haven't told you about Sean Kelvin, or Jodi Melville."

"Who?"

"People from my school who got infected with the meteor rocks. Sean could freeze people with his hands. And Jodi turned into some kind of fat-sucking vampire."

A slight smile crept across Lex's face. "Of course she did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is definitely not all consistent with canon, but to be fair, canon was NOT consistent. There were times Clark was standing a foot away from Lana with her necklace and feeling nothing, and there are times he feels it from twenty feet away. After extensive research on the subject, I've discovered that the distance Superman has to be from Kryptonite in order to feel its effects is "the distance required by the plot for that story."


	14. Power

Lex spent the next several days letting his work at the plant slip behind, putting off memos and paperwork until late at night and drinking way too much coffee to keep up with everything he needed to do.

He reconfigured the experiment room into more of a training gym, and planned what was essentially a measured workout for Clark, in such a way that their equipment could take data on Clark's vitals and capability all along the way. Clark was hesitant when Lex first showed him the new setup, but once they started, he actually seemed to enjoy it, laughing and chatting with Lex as his efforts strained the belt on the treadmill and the force sensors in the lab. Lex gradually moved the meteor rock closer to the setup until Clark began to sweat and weaken, but he kept it far enough away that Clark was never in serious pain. He had also found some additional meteor rocks, so they could test quantity as well as proximity.

They tested the psychological effects of the meteors as well. It turned out that Clark responded much, much more strongly to the rock if he knew it was there, and he even weakened a little when Lex brought in a placebo. Lex wasn't sure how to undo that effect except by letting Clark know it was happening, but it did imply that Clark could work through his weakness, even if only to a small degree.

Meanwhile, their cover story seemed to be going over well with Clark's parents, at least according to Clark. But when Christmas approached, and Clark had a two-week break from school, Lex told him to stay home rather than come into the lab. Clark insisted he still wanted to come visit Lex during his break, but the last thing Lex wanted was for Jonathan to try to call Clark's workplace to see if he could get the time off. Lex added a $500 Christmas bonus to Clark's "internship" paycheck for that week and hoped it was high enough to make Clark happy but still low enough that his parents wouldn't suspect where the money was coming from.

It was a lonely two weeks, but a lonely Christmas season was better than what Lex had had when he'd lived with his father. This year, he was actually happy to have the time to catch up on his work, since he'd been pulling all-nighters to spend more time in the experiment room. Lex celebrated Christmas day by sleeping until four in the afternoon.

When Clark returned to the mansion at the start of the new year, they started testing Clark's limits without the meteor rock. Clark could run roughly three times the speed of sound for several minutes at a time, and he could lift about twenty thousand pounds comfortably. He could stand temperatures as high as 2000 degrees Fahrenheit and as low as 100 below before he started getting uncomfortable.

Poisons didn't affect him at all—Lex started with a very low concentration and never gave him anything that would quite kill a human—but they tasted bad to him. He was as sensitive to bitterness as any human. The only other part of him that seemed to be as sensitive as any human was his eardrums, as they learned when one of the machines malfunctioned and popped, causing both Lex and Clark to flinch and rub their ears.

At Clark's request, they also ran a series of invulnerability tests using a hydraulic press. The first one broke trying to press into Clark's forearm, so Lex had to order a heftier one. They used a needle attachment first, and Clark hissed when it finally broke his skin—it took over a hundred times the force that it had needed to break Lex's skin, and the little hole it left behind healed within five seconds after the needle had lifted.

With a flatter, wider attachment, Clark let the machine dig into his arm with increasing pressure to see how much force he could take in general; Lex cut the power as soon as Clark started to groan with pain. Lex was concerned at first when he saw that the circular red mark on Clark's skin wasn't fading, and he started brainstorming cover stories for Clark to tell his parents while Clark iced his arm. Lex hadn't quite figured out the details when Clark handed back the ice and showed that the bruise was completely healed, though he still winced a little when Lex touched it.

Long after Clark had left for the evening, it occurred to Lex later that he should have been collecting more data while Clark was healing. But at the moment, that was the furthest thing from his mind. Two sides of his mind warred with each other, always fighting. On the one hand, Lex drowned in guilt at the thought that he had hurt his friend, but the side of him that had internalized his father's training berated him for stopping so soon. Reminded him that this whole thing was so much bigger than himself—a miraculous being, proof of alien life, inordinate amounts of power contained by an unstable, hormonal fourteen-year-old.

Lex wore himself out trying to appease both sides of himself. As much as he wanted to renounce all connection to his father, to ignore everything that sinister voice said to him, it was seldom actually _wrong_. According to Lex's calculations, the force that had given Clark a red mark was pretty close to the amount of force delivered by a typical bullet, and he was strong enough to lift a small house. If he wanted to, he could make quick work of a small army. On top of that, Clark was still a kid, still growing and developing. He was probably still getting faster and stronger as he aged.

Clark was a good kid—for now. But Lex knew better than anyone what power could do to a person. And Clark had been raised by Jonathan Kent, who was willing to threaten violence against a stranger, could hold a grudge across generations, and did everything in his power to control his son. That didn't exactly bode well. Lex couldn't afford to just keep up with Clark; he had to stay one step ahead.

He considered stepping up the experiments, focusing more on Clark's weaknesses than on his strengths, in order to ensure that he could keep his younger friend in check if it was ever needed. But seeing Clark in pain broke through any other motives Lex might have had. Before Clark was a threat or a test subject or even a miraculous being, Clark was his best friend. And even before that, he was a young person under Lex's care and protection, and because of that, Lex refused to push Clark any harder than he was already working.

Instead, Lex reached out to a mineralogist, Dr. Steven Hamilton, to run some further experiments on the meteor rocks, in search of some explanation for the effects of the meteors on humans. Lex justified it in his mind by saying that he was doing it for Clark's good, and Clark would be happy about it. Lex made sure Dr. Hamilton's research was safe, ethical, and confidential, so his conscience was clean.

On the other hand, Lex couldn't actually bring himself tell Clark about Dr. Hamilton at all.

The trouble was, if Lex had been forced to tell the truth about why he was doing all of this—working with Dr. Hamilton, experimenting with Clark—Lex wouldn't have known how to answer. He didn't know whether he was running the experiments to help protect Clark from the world, or to someday protect the world from Clark.

And of course, there was always the darker explanation for why Lex was pouring all of his time and resources into this so-called friendship. Because if he was honest with himself, it took every ounce of self-restraint Lex had not to push Clark as far as he wanted to go and further. His darker side reminded him that that was what Clark wanted. It taunted him that the friendship wouldn't last forever, that no one could get to know Lex and stay on good terms with him for long.

Lex knew the truth about why it was trying to entice him. It wanted to know Clark's limits. To control him. It both feared and revered Clark; it wanted to own him and take advantage of his power.

It was with bitter irony that Lex worried about who _Clark_ would become in light of his parentage. Jonathan Kent had his faults, but Lex was pretty sure he was a good man aside from them; that's what everyone said, anyway. No one accused Lionel of being a good man. Lex was exactly the wrong person to try to hold Clark accountable. His own power was in as much danger of corruption as Clark's was.

Lex held tightly to the hope that Clark would hold onto his nobility and morality for as long as possible, but even more desperately, he just hoped he could do the same himself. And in the moments when Clark jabbered excitedly about his adventures at school and monologued about Lana and laughed at Lex's jokes and even, once or twice, gave Lex a sort of half-hug when they discovered something incredible, Lex really believed they could both stay good. Stay friends for the rest of their lives.

Hiding his work with Dr. Hamilton from Clark was a step in the wrong direction. Lex knew that. He would tell Clark about it, eventually. Maybe if Dr. Hamilton came to any breakthroughs, Lex could surprise Clark with it. Clark would be happy.

Lex could almost convince himself.


	15. Prevention

Clark had been careful to keep his friendship with Lex secret for the first couple of weeks of knowing him, because he didn't want to get in trouble with his dad, but that was nothing compared to how careful he was now. Getting yelled at or grounded was the last of his worries. He couldn't imagine actually being prevented from visiting Lex.

Despite the age gap, Lex had quickly become his best friend. Not only could Clark talk to him about anything; Lex actually wanted to know—he listened actively and enthusiastically to Clark's victories, and with sympathy and occasionally advice for his failures. Also, if Clark ever mentioned in passing liking a certain kind of snack food, Lex would have it waiting for him the next time they met. Most importantly, even as they were doing experiments, Lex never made Clark feel like a bug under a microscope. He always felt like a whole person.

The other nice thing was that he'd convinced his parents—his mom, really—to put his "internship" earnings toward the farm, in exchange for permission to use his abilities for more of his chores and a doubled allowance. He watched their stress lessen over the following weeks, which meant his relationship with his parents actually improved. That helped him to feel less guilty about going behind their backs.

Aside from having Lex as a friend, and aside from the steady income, getting to learn so much about his abilities was incredibly cool. He found out what he could and couldn't do—for instance, he learned that he would be able to withstand a bullet if he needed to, though it would hurt a bit. He learned how to control his strength with more precision. And each week, he got a little stronger. Clark didn't know whether that was just because his powers were maturing as he aged, or because he was working out so much. He supposed it didn't matter.

Lex ran into Victoria Hardwick at a charity gala at the Metropolis Museum.

Normally, Lex would have considered Victoria to be a welcome distraction from his usual work. The battle between their companies was a chess match he could win, as long as he kept on his toes, and he enjoyed the challenge. Having her around the mansion was fun, and a welcome release for both of them. She was hot—not exactly pretty, but certainly attractive.

Now, though, between keeping the plant afloat and working with Clark, Lex really had enough to keep him both challenged and happy. Six months ago, he would have drawn out the chess match to last weeks. Now, he was just as happy to get through it quickly.

Clark was endearingly innocent about the whole arrangement. One afternoon, Clark came by the mansion in the late evening. He'd come to warn Lex that Victoria was snooping around on Lex's laptop. He wanted to know why Lex wanted to keep her around if he didn't love her. It was kind of adorable.

Lex had deflected Clark's warning about one of his servants' obsession with him by asking about Lana, and managed to get sidetracked into talking about his mother's death, when they both heard a crash and a scream.

Clark sped out of Lex's study, following the sound of the crash. It had come to a bathroom, where Victoria was struggling under the water in the bathtub. Clark was able to get her out and to safety, but he ended up being knocked into a mirror by some force he couldn't see. He glanced up at just the right moment and used his x-ray vision—a person was walking away. An invisible person.

Victoria had passed out; Clark covered her with a towel and left her on the bathroom floor. He sped back down to Lex, who was in the hallway, halfway to the bathroom.

"Someone attacked Victoria."

"What? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, but . . ." Clark lowered his voice. "I saw someone leaving the room. Someone invisible."

"Clark, unless the invisible assailant has super speed, they can't have gotten far."

"So?"

"So can you use your speed and x-ray vision at the same time?"

They'd tested that. "Yeah. But Lex, I think the person was infected by the meteor rock. They threw me into a mirror."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I'm not sure I can overpower them."

"You don't have to. Just find out who it is, and we can talk about how to take care of it."

It took about a minute to find the skeleton again—Clark remained a room away to make sure the person didn't see him coming. The skeleton went into a little cottage to the side of the mansion—Clark watched through the walls as the person scrubbed away some kind of residue from his skin, then he switched his view to skin level. He jogged back to Lex, who was holding a crying Victoria in the bathroom.

"It's Jeff Palmer," he said.

Lex blinked. "Jeff?"

Jeff was surprisingly willing to share why he'd done what he'd done. He didn't even try to hide the fact that Lex would have been his next target.

On the plus side, Clark was able to help Lex to find his watch. Exiling the Palmers from the mansion and calling the police about Jeff was tough on all of them, though Lex left Amy's theft out of it. She clearly needed mental help, not a jail sentence. The Palmers wouldn't be able afford therapy or medication, especially having just lots their jobs; Lex told them to send him the bill. Not exactly because he felt responsible, but because he just felt terrible for Jeff and Amy's parents. They were good people.

Lex was terrified to think what might have happened to him if he'd been attacked by an invisible enemy, and he was incredibly thankful that Clark had been able to prevent it. He wanted to thank his younger friend, but he didn't want Clark to have to explain away another bonus on his paycheck. So instead, he made use of the time Victoria spent in recovery away from the mansion. He put a hold on the experiments and spent time with Clark up in his study, putting out all of Clark's favorite snack foods. He also bought an X-box for the mansion and played with Clark for a few hours, and gave him permission to use it whenever he wanted.

Even at that, Lex still felt indebted to Clark, but the real chance to thank him came a week later. Lex ran into a sleazy farm equipment salesman, Bob Rickman, at a reception, and found out that Bob was planning to use the Kent farm land to develop a new pesticide plant. Lex knew Jonathan Kent would never sell—his stubbornness was legendary, after all, but so was Bob's ability to persuade, and Lex just didn't want the Kent family to have to deal with it. Clark's pain over his parents' stress was always significant. So Lex pulled a few strings and managed to run Bob out of town before he could try anything. It was the least he could do.

Later on, Clark ended up meeting one of Bob's friends, Kyle Tippet, and he found out that Bob was actually a meteor rock mutant with the power of persuasion. Lex didn't like to think about what might have happened if he hadn't stepped in.


	16. Win

It was asinine that the breakup with Victoria actually hurt.

Lex knew it had always been temporary. He didn't even like her, not really. But he'd never really thought about how desperately lonely the mansion was without her. Their final conversation should have simply been the victory lap, the end of the chess match. He should have been elated. But after she'd slapped him and walked away, he found he couldn't really enjoy his win. His pride was sore, his face stung, and his insides just felt empty and hollow.

It was more fun to take out people who really deserved it. Victoria had asked for it, but that wasn't quite the same thing.

Lex sent Clark a text saying he was too tired to run experiments that afternoon, and retreated instead into his study. He couldn't really get drunk—too many people were counting on him to be sharp and alert, and giving himself a hangover didn't do anyone any favors in that department—but he gave himself a couple of hours alone in the study, and decided to allow himself a couple more drinks than he usually had.

He was only halfway through the first drink when there was a knock on the study door. "Hello?"

That was Clark's voice. Lex put down the glass. Clark didn't mind if Lex drank when they visited—Lex did ask once—but he was going to be drinking a bit more than he usually would around a teenager. Lex sighed and went over to the door, breathing in to say he wanted to be alone, but stopped short when he saw what Clark was carrying.

It was a cake. Maybe eight inches across, circular, with white frosting.

"Don't worry," Clark said. "I'm not going to sing."

Lex fumbled for words, which wasn't common for him. He settled on, "What's this?"

"Well, I know your birthday isn't until tomorrow, but I—I just thought, since I was supposed to see you today anyway, but you didn't want to run experiments, I figured maybe we could celebrate? Sorry the cake doesn't have your name on it, I didn't want to let the bakery people know who it was for."

Lex had been only vaguely aware that tomorrow was his birthday. He hadn't really celebrated it since that one terrible party no one showed up to—most years, he just tried to forget about it. "Clark, how on _earth_ did you find out that tomorrow is my birthday?"

"Believe me, it wasn't easy. I had to look through—"

"You know what, it's okay. I don't want to know."

Clark shrugged, and Lex took the cake, bringing it over to the coffee table by the fireplace. He set it down and sat on the couch, expecting Clark to sit across from him like he usually did, but Clark came and sat beside him on the same couch. He set his backpack down on the floor and rummaged around in it before pulling out a small, long box wrapped sloppily in bright green paper. "I had to wrap it in secret. Otherwise it would look better."

Lex took the box very gently, as though it would disappear any moment. He couldn't help but worry that any sudden moves would wake him up from this impossible dream. He broke through the tape rather than ripping the wrapping paper, and opened the dark blue box inside.

It took him a second to figure out what it was. It was a shiny silver fountain pen, very high quality from the look of it, but with a bit of a curve to the end. "It's beautiful. But, uh, it's an unusual design."

"It's left handed," Clark said.

Lex blinked. " _Left handed?_ "

"Yeah, I think it's supposed to help keep you from smearing the ink? Or getting hand cramps? I don't know, you'll have to try it out."

"Wow." Lex closed the box and looked over at Clark, wondering if Clark would be okay with a hug, but unsure how to ask. "Thank you, Clark."

Clark grinned. "Oh! And . . . " He reached back into the bag and took out a wrinkled envelope. "Forgot to give you the card."

Lex took the envelope. He thought about going over to his desk for a letter opener, but the seal was easy to tear with his fingers. The front of the card just said _Happy birthday_ , with colored stripes. The inside was blank, save Clark's writing:

_Lex,_

_Thanks for being a great "boss" (haha) and a better best friend. Hope you have a great birthday!_

_Clark Kent_

Lex clamped down on his emotions, using all of the skills he'd ever learned from his father to keep himself from tearing up. Best friend. Clark had called him his _best friend_. Given that, along with the cake and the gift, Lex figured he could chance a hug. Actually, Clark might think it was rude if he didn't.

For all Clark had learned about controlling his strength, he still hugged too tight. Lex wouldn't have had it any other way.

Over the following three hours, they played on the x-box, talked and joked and laughed, and finished off almost the entire cake. Lex wasn't worried about Clark being unable to eat when he got home—eating unlimited amounts of food without discomfort seemed to be one of his powers—but Lex was definitely going to have to give his own kitchen staff the night off.

It was the best birthday he'd ever had. And it wasn't even his birthday.

When Clark left for the evening, Lex walked him to the door and returned to his empty study. It was quiet, but the loneliness didn't really bother him. His eyes fell on his half-finished drink, and he realized he hadn't thought of Victoria at all for the past three hours, and thinking about her now barely hurt. He picked up the glass, but drowning himself in alcohol just didn't have the same appeal as it had had. He wasn't alone. He had a best friend.

A little voice in his head reminded him that it wouldn't, couldn't, last—that Lex would ruin this, like he'd ruined every other relationship in his life. He downed the last of the drink and pushed the thought aside before putting away the glass.


	17. Leech

Six months ago, if Clark had gone on a field trip and come home without his powers, he might have been relieved. He could live a normal life, take the weight of responsibility off his shoulders. Pretend he was just a human.

He'd come a long way since then. Now, he was proud of his abilities—they were part of what made him who he was. Having spent time experimenting with them had given him a new level of respect for them, and being able to apply that knowledge to help people forged them as part of his identity. It didn't hurt that Lex thought Clark's powers were really, really cool. Clark knew his parents were proud of him, but he never really got to see that amazement in their eyes.

Being without his abilities changed everything in his mind, even though it didn't make much of a difference to many of the people in his life. His friends would never know the difference. His parents loved him either way, though he knew they'd be both more and less worried about him now. More worried because the invulnerability was gone; less worried because there was no secret to hide.

Lex, though . . . Clark didn't even know what Lex was going to say. They'd become friends because of Clark's abilities—Lex might not want to be friends with him anymore if he didn't have them.

Clark walked to the mansion that afternoon. He was twenty minutes later than usual.

It almost hurt to enter into the experiment room, seeing all of the equipment Lex had bought and set up for him. It was such a waste now. Lex was busy at a computer on a cart, but he pushed the cart aside when Clark arrived. "Everything okay?" Lex asked.

"Sorry I'm late, I . . ." Clark swallowed. Saying it out loud would make it all so much more . . . real.

"Nah, don't worry about that. Something's bothering you."

"Lex . . . I don't know how to say this."

Lex took a step forward and clasped his hands together. "You have the floor."

"I was on a field trip collecting rocks, and this guy in my class, Eric Summers, he didn't come back to the bus, so I went out to look for him, and . . . well, he almost fell off his dam, but I pulled him up, but we got struck by lightning, and his jacket was sort of still smoking, so I went to put it out with my hand, and . . . it burned me."

Lex blinked, his mouth falling open slightly.

"I had to walk here today, Lex. I don't . . . I can't . . ."

"Your powers are gone."

Clark's mouth felt dry. "Yeah."

"Wow."

Clark shifted his weight. He still couldn't tell what Lex's reactions were. "Are . . . are you upset?"

Lex's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you bought all of this stuff, and now . . ."

"Oh, I'm not worried about the money. It's disappointing we won't get to learn any more, but it wasn't your fault."

 _Disappointing._ The word cut like a knife. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Disappointing you."

"No, I—" Lex shook his head. "I mean, it's sad, but I'm sure you're more torn up about it than I am."

Clark wasn't sure what to make of that. It sounded like a confirmation of what he'd suspected—they were going to stop running experiments, and that was disappointing, but Lex figured Clark would miss them more than Lex would. Clark had worried he was presuming too much when he wrote that Lex was his best friend on that birthday card. Lex was so much older and . . . cooler. He didn't even need powers to be interesting. Meanwhile, Clark was nothing without them. "Okay. Well, thanks for everything, Lex. I guess I'll go home then."

"Oh! Is everything alright?"

Clark gave Lex a look. "I just told you. I lost my powers. There's nothing for us to do."

"Nothing for—" Lex let out a short laugh. "Is that all this was, then? You were using me?"

"No!"

"Now that you don't need any of this anymore—" he gestured around the room— "you don't need me. I knew it was too good to be true, but I kept telling myself—"

"Lex, it's not like that! I didn't think you'd want to be friends with _me_."

Lex stopped short. "You're not real bright, are you, Clark?"

"Well, neither are you!"

"I—" Lex winced. "You're the best friend I ever had, Clark. _You_. Not your powers."

Elation filled Clark. He felt like he could run across the country. It wasn't the first time he'd felt that way, but it was the first time he'd felt it while knowing that he was unable to actually do it. Instead, he stepped forward and gave Lex a quick hug—Lex always seemed to be okay with that, and it always made Clark feel a lot better.

Lex smiled and kept a hand on Clark's shoulder after they let go. "Are _you_ okay, Clark?"

Clark shrugged. "It's a pretty big change. My parents want me to try to enjoy my freedom. Maybe they'd let me play football, but without my powers, I'm not sure if I'd be very good at it."

"I see your dilemma. No chance of getting your powers back?"

"I don't even really understand how I lost them."

"Was there any meteor rock around when it happened?"

"Um." Clark tried to remember. "Eric was holding a piece of meteor rock, actually. I guess we both were, when the lightning struck us."

"Hm . . ."

"My parents don't think I can get them back. They seem to have transferred to Eric."

"Wow."

"Yeah." Clark didn't know how to explain why he still felt responsible for his powers, even though he didn't have them anymore. And that was why he couldn't relax. At least he hadn't lost his best friend on top of everything else "So . . . you're still okay with me coming over twice a week?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it."

"And . . . well, I guess you should stop paying me." That would be tough on his family, but it was fair.

"The money's for your cover story, Clark. Did you think I was actually paying you to do experiments on yourself?"

"Oh!" Clark's face felt warm. "I guess not."

"You're over two months into your internship, by the way. Is it too soon to give you a raise?"

"Probably, yeah." The Christmas bonus had already caused his parents to ask questions, and besides, he felt bad about accepting Lex's money, especially now that it really was just for cover.

"Oh well," Lex said, and he actually sounded disappointed, which confused Clark. "Want to try pool? I'm curious how well you'll play without your abilities."

Clark didn't know how to describe his relief at how Lex was handling this. He still had his best friend. "Sure. Snacks?"

"Yeah, but you'll have to be careful not to ruin your appetite, now. I'm pretty sure unlimited eating was one of your powers."

Clark grinned. "How much do you wanna bet?"

* * *

Lex stayed in the study for a long time after Clark had gone, holding up Lana's necklace and staring at the bright green rock.

So a burst of electricity, combined with the meteor rock, could transfer Clark's strengths from one person to another. Could they transfer his weaknesses as well? Maybe they could make use of this. Whoever this Eric Summer kid was, he shouldn't be left to wreak havoc with abilities he didn't know how to control.

The look on Clark's face had just about killed Lex. He had seemed so . . . empty. Lex couldn't imagine what it must have been like to go from being the most powerful person in the world, to being an ordinary teenager. The closest thing he could imagine was if he were to become penniless over night, and even that didn't seem to compare.

But Clark was Lex's best friend. Lex was never going to let him feel like he had to question whether Lex still wanted to spend time with him. And Clark was the last person in the world who deserved to feel weak or powerless.

Knowing that was enough to make Lex's decision for him. He was _going_ to get Clark his powers back. No matter what it took.


	18. Retrieval

Lex commissioned the construction of a room in the mansion, in the corner of Clark's testing room, with trace amounts of meteor rock in the walls. According to Lex's calculations, if Clark were to stand inside the room, it would render him powerless. Not in pain; not sick; maybe mildly uncomfortable; but certainly, as weak as a human.

Lex had no intention of letting Clark into it. It was for Eric Summers. The room was more a precaution than anything, but on the off chance he had to use it, Lex hoped to God that the transfer of powers from Clark to Eric had been seamless. Otherwise, Eric might be too strong, and overcome the room; or he might be too weak, and the room would hurt him. The latter wouldn't be the end of the world, as Lex didn't plan to keep him there for long. The worst case scenario, really, was if Clark's weakness didn't transfer to Eric along with his strength, and the meteor rock had no effect.

Lex had predictions about what was going to happen to Eric, though he hadn't shared them with Clark. Clark was only as well adjusted as he was because he'd had his entire life to get used to having his abilities. Clark's parents weren't perfect people, but they had also had quite a few years to get themselves used to their son's growing strength and speed.

Eric and his family had had all of a day to process the change. Eric was a teenage boy—he probably wasn't the picture of confidence or stability, and Lex had seen firsthand how difficult it was for Clark to keep his secret, even with years of practice. Just getting to share with Lex was obviously a huge release for Clark; Eric wouldn't have any self control. He'd show off. His parents would panic. It would spin out of control quickly. He might even be desperate enough to accept help from a stranger.

So Lex gave it a little time. He paid what it would take to get the prison room built in a couple of days, and he gave Eric enough time that things would run their natural course.

When the meteor room was ready, and when rumors started circulating around about a big fight at the high school, Lex parked his car outside the Summers's house.

He didn't have to wait long. The kid came trudging up toward his house with a terrified expression on his face. Lex rolled down his window and called, "Eric?"

Eric turned around and squinted at Lex. "Who are you?"

"I'm someone who can help you."

"Do I know you?

"Lex Luthor. Heard you were in a bit of trouble."

"Luthor? As in LuthorCorp?"

Lex made a guess, based on the tone of his voice: "Your folks aren't fans."

Eric winced toward the house, and Lex could see the fear and disdain in his face.

Lex took a chance. "What are your parents like, Eric? You think they'll be understanding about what happened at the school?"

Eric swallowed. "I, uh . . ."

"Eric."

The boy turned toward Lex.

"I can help you."

"You don't even know me."

"I know you're scared. You're in way over your head. You don't know what happened to you, and you know your parents won't understand, even though they're your last hope of getting help." Lex hardened his stare. "Until now."

Eric scoffed. "No way, man." He turned away from the car.

Lex sighed. He seriously needed to get better at talking with teenagers, if he was going to be helpful to Clark. Based on Clark's stories, most of the meteor mutants so far had been high schoolers.

Lex didn't want to hurt Eric—as far as he could see, the kid was mostly innocent in all of this—but Eric had also proven that he could be an unstoppable terror if no one took control. Lex couldn't just let him walk away to go terrorize someone else. He flipped open the lead box on the passenger's seat.

Eric stopped short and dropped to his knees.

"You can feel that, can't you?"

"W-what is that?" Eric slowly pulled himself to turn around and face Lex, grimacing in pain.

"It's your weakness. It's proof that I know what I'm talking about."

"I—I have a weakness?"

"You may not know what's happening to you, but I do. Get in the car, and I'll help you." Lex closed the box. "See? The pain's gone now."

Eric breathed hard, pulled himself to his feet, glanced over his shoulder at the house one more time—Lex put his fingers on the clasp of the lead box, ready to open it again if he needed to—and then got into the car.

"You're doing the right thing, Eric," Lex said, but Eric's face had gone completely pale, and he didn't speak as Lex drove.

There was a side of Lex that enjoyed wielding that power. Lex shoved down that dark elation as hard as he could. He wasn't doing this to exploit or manipulate or hurt Eric. Lex was saving the town from Eric's inability to manage these powers. More than anything, though, Lex was doing this to help Clark.

For the duration of the drive back to the mansion, Lex tried to convince himself his motivations were right. That Clark would be happy. Clark didn't have to know all the details about how Lex had convinced Eric to come with him, anyway.

Lex walked Eric into the mansion, then down to Clark's testing room.

Eric's eyes widened as he walked among the equipment. "Whoa. What is this?"

"It's where we're going to wait until my friend gets here. He's the one who can help you, not me." Lex realized he didn't really know how much to share with Eric—he wasn't sure how much Eric already know, or how much Clark would want him to say.

"Are—are you going to _experiment_ on me?"

"Do you want me to?"

" _No!_ "

"Then no. You're safe here." It was worth trying to set the kid's mind at ease. Now that Eric was here, he wasn't really a threat to anyone. He was just an innocent kid who had gotten caught up in something bigger than he was.

Lex's phone buzzed, and he took it out of his pocket. A text from Clark popped up: _Going to be late. I'm at the hospital._

Lex typed a reply: _Everything okay?_

It took a couple of minutes for the reply: _Yeah. Tried to stop Eric today. Nothing broken, but ribs are bruised. Doctor says it's going to hurt for two weeks! Is that normal for humans?_

Lex seethed.

Eric had _hurt_ Clark. Suddenly he didn't seem so innocent anymore.

"Come here, Summers." Lex picked up the lead box with Lana's necklace and held it under one arm in case Eric tried to get away, then used his other arm to guide Eric toward the meteor room.

"Where are we going?"

"A place for you to wait."

"But—but I don't want to—"

Lex gave Eric a little shove into the room—it occurred to him that the only reason the shove had any effect was probably reflex—and slammed the glass door, locking it.

"Hey! Let me out of here!" Eric didn't seem to be in pain, but the glass didn't shatter when he beat on it with his fists—Lex's calculations had been correct.

"I will. But I can't trust you right now. You hurt my friend."

Eric shouted and raged. One half of Lex felt guilty for essentially kidnapping the kid; the other half of him felt pleased that his plan had gone off without a hitch, so far. Of the two halves, he wasn't sure which side it was that was simply focused on making sure Clark, and no one else, had his powers—too focused to worry about what was going to happen to Eric after all of this was over.

Lex had about a half an hour to stew in it and develop an increasing sense of dread about how this would all turn out, before Clark arrived.

"Lex? Are you in here?"

Lex stood from the desk he'd been sitting at. "Hi, Clark."

"Oh, there you are. Hey, uh . . . I thought maybe from now on, we could just meet in the study. This room is kind of depressing for me now, you know?"

"About that. I've, uh . . ." Lex swallowed. This wasn't happening the way he'd hoped. "I've got something for you."

Clark smiled. "Really?"

Lex nodded and walked him over to the far side of the room, then gestured into the meteor room.

"Really? _Clark?_ " Eric cried, staring at Lex. " _He's_ your friend who's supposed to help me?"

Clark had gone pale. "Lex. What have you done?"

Lex frowned and walked Clark a few steps away from the glass door, out of Eric's hearing range. He spoke in a low voice. "Your powers can be transferred with electricity and a meteor rock."

"I—maybe! I don't know how it happened, Lex!"

"Well, let's find out. I want you to have your powers back"

"Yeah, but . . . you _kidnapped_ Eric?"

"No, of course not."

"Well, how did you even get him to come here?"

Lex winced. He'd been planning to say that Eric had come willingly in response to Lex's offer of help, but Clark would never believe it, now that Lex had locked Eric in a cell. It had all spun out of control so fast—Lex had been distracted by his conflicting motivations and he'd shot himself in the foot. "It doesn't matter. What matters is—"

"What do you mean, it _doesn't matter?_ You kidnapped Eric!"

"You want your powers back or not?" That came out as a shout.

"I . . ."

"He can't handle them, Clark. You've seen that. Taking them away from him—that'll be a mercy."

Clark's jaw pulsed. "What happens to him after?"

"We call a hospital. Better yet, we call Belle Reve. That's the best we can do for him at this point. He's never gonna recover from this, but we can save him from doing anything worse." Lex took out the lead box from under his arm and opened it, holding it out to Clark. "What do you say?"

Clark flinched when the box was first opened, but swallowed hard and snatched the necklace. "This conversation isn't over."


	19. Rift

They performed the transfer in the meteor room. Eric didn't have the opportunity to put up much of a fight, although the transfer seemed to be a painful process for both Clark and Eric. Lex made the call to Belle Reve, and an ambulance came by for Eric within the hour.

Clark didn't speak during the whole time they were waiting. He seethed, fists clenched. Lex sat with his stomach clenched, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As soon as Lex returned to the experiment room, Clark turned on him. "What were you _thinking?_ " he shouted.

"I wanted to help you." Lex was determined to take this with his dignity intact.

"You kidnapped a high schooler!" Clark started to pace.

"I didn't kidnap him."

"You held a high schooler against his will!"

"What would you have suggested, Clark?" Lex kept his frustration just barely contained, his voice sounding as calm as he could make it.

"I don't know! Stay out of it, maybe?"

"How could you expect me to stand by when you were in need?"

Clark kept pacing. "I didn't _need_ you do to anything! You weren't even supposed to _know_ about my secrets in the first place!"

That one hurt. "Maybe not, but you're my best friend now, Clark. Like it or not."

Clark stopped short. He stared at Lex, fuming. Lex really wasn't sure what would happen next—he'd seen that look in his father's eyes right before his father beat him, but he didn't _really_ think Clark would hit him—

The last thing he saw was Clark storming toward him, fist raised.

* * *

Clark ran to Metropolis.

He didn't really need to be in Metropolis, but it was a route he knew, and running helped clear his head. He started running laps, from Smallville to Metropolis and then back again.

Clark was thankful to have his powers back, but the cost at which he'd regained them . . . Lex should have known better than to do that to Eric. He should have at least _asked_ Clark about how he wanted to handle the whole situation. And what was that little prison cell in the corner of the experiment room, with the meteor rocks in the walls? Why did Lex even _have_ it?

Lex claimed to care more about Clark as a person than he cared about his powers, then he'd turned around and proved it wasn't true.

Clark's dad was right about the Luthors. He'd been right all along, and Clark knew he should be angry, and he was, but the anger was such a small part of what he felt. He was _hurt_. His eyes kept trying to fill with tears, but the wind kept blowing them away before he could even blink them back.

It was over now, though. Clark had punched Lex, and the head trauma would cause memory loss and confusion, and hopefully when Lex woke up, he'd have forgotten Clark's secret. Clark had been careful about how hard he'd punched Lex—hard enough to do some damage, but not hard enough to kill him. Maybe that's what he should have tried to do when Lex first hit him with his car—knocked him out before saving him—but Clark hadn't thought of it at the time. Besides, he wasn't as good at controlling his strength back then.

Clark's phone buzzed in his pocket—Lex was the only person who ever texted him. He stopped abruptly, three quarters of the way from Metropolis to Smallville, and glanced at the screen.

One word: _Ow._

Clark swallowed hard. Making Lex forget hadn't exactly been successful, then. Clark would have to try something else.

He ran to the mansion and easily slipped past security. Lex wasn't in the experiment room anymore; Clark found him in the study, lying on the couch.

Clark winced as he stepped closer. Lex's eyes were closed, and the entire left side of his face was red and swollen. It was going to be a massive bruise.

Clark cleared his throat.

Lex sat up, then grimaced and put a hand to his head. "I was trying to help you," Lex said.

"You kidnapped Eric and held him against his will."

"That's . . . not exactly how it happened. Things got out of control."

Clark's voice rose a little. "You showed him my experiment room."

"You'd already passed your powers to him. I figured the experiment room was a much less incriminating secret."

Clark could feel his pulse in his ears. "Just two days ago, you told me you didn't care about my powers."

"I didn't say that. I said I care about _you,_ with or without your powers. But you wanted them back, and you saw how Eric was handling them."

Clark took a step back, beginning to pace. Lex had a point there, but for some reason, it didn't make Clark feel any better. "Lex, you didn't even talk to me about any of this. You built a _prison_ for me? When was this?"

" _No_." Lex stood up from the couch. "No, that room wasn't for you. I had it built yesterday, just in case things got out of hand with Eric."

"Which they did!"

"I know that, Clark. My plan hit a few . . . snags."

"So _why_ did you try to do this without me?"

Lex's voice caught in his throat.

"You hid this from me." Clark shook his head. "I tell you _everything,_ Lex, but you hid this. What else are you hiding?"

"Nothing!"

"Is that a lie? Because if you're lying to me . . ."

Lex's eyes fell closed. There was no mistaking the look on his face.

"What are you hiding?"

"I . . . hired a mineralogist to study the meteor rocks."

Fury blurred the corners of Clark's vision. His dad _had_ been right. " _Lex!_ We had an agreement, no scientists!"

"I know. I _know_. But . . . he doesn't know anything about _you._ And we just keep running into more people who have been mutated by those meteor rocks. Most of them have ended up trying to kill people. It was just a precaution. Doesn't it make sense to try to find out why these things are happening?"

"If you thought it was _just a precaution_ , why didn't you tell me?"

Lex was quiet for a moment before replying. "I'm sorry, Clark, I should have told you."

"Yeah. You should have." Clark straightened up and took a step back. "Since the day we met, our friendship has been built on trust. Trust that you wouldn't share my secrets with anyone, that you wouldn't take advantage of me, that you wouldn't hurt me. Now I know I can't trust you. I'm ending this friendship."

Clark turned to go. Lex's footsteps followed him. "Clark, wait—" Lex grabbed Clark's arm.

" _What?_ " Clark whirled around.

Lex flinched, gasping and raising his hands in front of his face. When Clark merely glared at him, he let his breath out. "Y-you can't go."

"And why not?"

"Because if you leave, we'll become enemies. Now, I can't speak for you, Clark, but the thought of having you as my enemy . . . that terrifies me. You could kill me without even trying. And . . . I have power over you that I was never supposed to have. You have to believe me, I would _never_ use it to hurt you, no matter where we leave things here, but . . . if I were you, I'd be terrified to have an enemy who knows my secret."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. I'm begging you. And Luthors don't beg. Clark, you and I _can't_ become enemies—we both have too much power."

Clark shifted his weight. "What do you want me to say, Lex?"

"I want another chance." Lex's eyebrows knitted. "There's something that scares me even more than gaining you as an enemy, Clark."

"And what's that?"

"Losing you as a friend."

"Losing me? Or losing my powers?"

"Both."

Clark let out a short laugh. "That's not exactly reassuring."

"But it's the truth. I'm done keeping secrets from you, Clark. You're the most incredible being on the planet, I'd be a hopeless imbecile if I didn't care about that at all. But you didn't need your powers to . . . to sit with me on my birthday. Or to embrace me like a brother when things went sour with my father. Or to just sit and talk with me at the end of a long day."

Clark could feel his resolve beginning to weaken, but he kept his voice firm. "Lex, how do I know I can trust you again?"

"You've never known. But you can. I'm an open book from now on, Clark. No more secrets. I would never do anything to risk our friendship again, and I don't want to be the person who did this anymore. God forbid something like this comes up again, but if it does, I'll _talk_ to you, and I won't do anything you're not comfortable with."

Clark wasn't sure how to respond. Part of him wanted to tell Lex that he wasn't comfortable with any of this, but the fact was, he wasn't comfortable with Lex knowing his secret at all—and that was the one thing he couldn't avoid.

He had no more time to contemplate the situation before three masked men walked into the study through the walls.


	20. Robbery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've slowed down a bit on updating this, but I kinda had to rewrite this little plot arc like 3 times. Hopefully it comes across well.

Lex's breath caught. Clark had talked about meteor mutants, but Lex had encountered far fewer of them personally than Clark had.

One of the men grabbed Clark from behind, and Clark struggled. Strange markings on his forearms glowed green—enough meteor rock content, then, to affect Clark and render him helpless. The men carried full bags. They'd come to rob the mansion, and Clark and Lex had just happened to get in the way.

Lex grabbed a vase from the wall and smashed it against the head of the guy who held Clark in place. The guy fell back, but another grabbed Clark as the third grabbed Lex around the neck. Lex grasped for something on the table, and picked up a letter opener, but apparently this guy was ready for it—the letter opener passed through the guy's arm with no resistance, jamming into Lex's own shoulder. He cried out, and the robber pushed him toward the window.

Lex didn't have time to catch himself. He didn't even have the breath in his lungs to call out for Clark to save him. The stained glass crumbled around him, shards piercing into his arms and back, and then he fell.

This was how he was supposed to have died, ever since that day on the bridge. Falling to his death. Really, he was supposed to have drowned, but perhaps this was just as fair.

The impossibly hard impact with the ground didn't even have the decency to knock him out.

* * *

Clark heard the window shatter behind him, but he had problems of his own. One guy had him around the neck; another was repeatedly punching him in the stomach. And it _hurt_. Though to be honest, the blows were only a small addition to the excruciating burn of the meteor rocks' presence.

Then, for some reason, the guys let go, fleeing the study and leaving Clark gasping on his hands and knees—for a second. Clark felt his skin and muscles stitching back together, healing, and then the pain was gone.

He ran to the window and leaned out of it. Lex lay on his back, one arm twisted at an awkward angle behind his back. His eyes were closed.

" _Lex!_ " Clark raced down the stairs and out to the lawn where Lex had fallen. He knelt down beside his crumpled body. "Oh, no . . . no, no, no . . ."

Lex's eyelids cracked open. "Clark." He lifted his head halfway, then let it drop, wincing.

Clark should have been there. Should have broken free, should have saved him. "Don't try to move. I'll call 911."

"No, Clark, you—you can't."

"And why not?"

"Because your dad will find out." Lex's eyes closed again. "I'll be okay."

"Lex, you just fell from a second story building. You need to go to the hospital."

"I've got a doctor I can call in. I'll just, uh . . ." His less-injured arm reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. It had been crushed in the fall. "Oh. Uh, the number's on a notepad on my desk. Can you go call it?"

Clark nodded and ran up to Lex's study. He took out the cell phone Lex had given him, called the number on the notepad, asked the doctor to hurry, and ran back down to find Lex again.

Beads of sweat stood out on Lex's forehead, and his whole face had turned pale. He breathed hard, his jaw clenching every so often. Clark also hadn't realized how much he was bleeding—little pools of blood soaked through his shirt and sank into the grass behind him

Lex tried to sit up, but Clark kept a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Just relax. The doctor's on his way."

"Thanks, Clark." Lex winced, his eyes shimmering. "Ah, I hate to ask, but . . . could you grab me something for the pain? Bathroom closest to the study. Pill bottle in the cabinet over the sink."

Clark worried that Lex would try to sit up to take the pill—he wasn't sure Lex should be moved.

"Please, Clark. It's . . . it's bad."

"I think the doctor will know better what to give you."

Lex squeezed his eyes shut, and a single tear traced its way down his temple. "You should go home."

"I'm not leaving you here like this."

"Your dad will want to know where you are."

Clark frowned—Lex had always worried about that before because Clark's dad would stop them from visiting each other. With the way they'd left things just before the guys had broken in, Clark didn't know where they stood, or whether they'd be continuing the visits at all. Right now, though, that was the last thing on his mind. He needed to make sure Lex was alright, and to do that, he needed to keep his cover intact. He could decide whether he'd need that cover for the future later.

Clark called the Ross household and asked Pete if he could cover for him if anyone asked where he was. Pete agreed hesitantly, then more enthusiastically when Clark reminded him that he owed him a favor. Then, Clark called his dad and asked if he could stay over at Pete's for the night, if they got their homework done and Clark still did his morning chores. His dad was even more hesitant, but to Clark's relief, he handed the phone over to Clark's mom to make the final decision, and all she did was to ask whether he had a toothbrush and a change of clothes.

When the calls had been made, Clark knelt down beside Lex again. Lex's eyes fluttered open and closed; he breathed hard and grimaced, and a second tear ran down the side of his face.

"Hang on, Lex," Clark whispered. "Hang in there."

* * *

Lex couldn't help thinking he deserved this, after everything he'd done in his life.

His doctor, Toby, gave Lex the all-clear to sit up, and he and Clark helped Lex up to his room, which might have been the longest, most physically painful walk of his life. Toby injected him with some kind of anesthetic, and Lex only barely remained awake while the doctor removed the glass from his back and arms, stitched him up, then gave him a sling for his arm.

When Toby asked about the bruise on his face, Lex glanced up at Clark, whose jaw hung open, frozen. Then Lex said, with cool confidence, "Guy decked me with a wine bottle before throwing me out the window. Lucky it didn't break."

Toby nodded. He left a bottle of pills on the bedside table, ordered Lex to stay in bed for a few days—as if running the plant would allow for that—and left the mansion as soon as Lex promised to send him the payment the next day.

Clark stood a few feet away from the bed, holding himself stiffly. "Uh . . . how is it?"

Lex didn't want to either lie or worry Clark—the pain meds were wearing off fast. He pushed himself into a sitting position, groaning as the stitches pulled. "Need to figure out what was stolen."

Clark shifted his weight. "I can look through the rooms and see where they hit."

"If you wouldn't mind."

Clark disappeared, and Lex's head fell back on the pillow. He drifted into a semi-sleep until Clark re-entered the room.

"I think it's the vault next to your study."

Lex swore under his breath. He didn't really care about most of the items in the vault, but there was a disc with incriminating information. If they'd happened to pick it up and find out about his espionage against his father, they could use it to blackmail him. "Anything left behind?"

"They were pretty thorough."

Lex clenched his teeth. He would have left it alone, if it weren't for the fact that blackmail was going to be involved. Things could get messy fast. "I guess it's too much to ask you to go after them."

"What do they have?"

"A disc with sensitive information."

Clark grimaced. "I would help you, Lex, but those guys were infected by meteor rocks, and there's still enough on them that I can't fight back."

"I know. But they're going to come after me, and . . ." He let his head fall back. "Never mind. This isn't your battle."

It was quiet for a moment, then Clark said, "You can't report them to the police?"

"I don't want the cops to know about the disc, either. Besides, the burglars could walk through walls. Try explaining that to Smallville's finest."

"What's on the disc?"

"Clark—" Lex coughed a few times and tried to sit up straighter, to no avail— "I'm an open book when it comes to anything involving you or the meteor rocks, but this is about protecting the plant. It's not just classified, it's boring." That last bit wasn't true as far as Lex was concerned, but Clark was fourteen. Corporate secrets would mean nothing to him.

"Why is the plant so important?"

"It employs over two thousand people."

"So?"

"Ever had a friend whose parent lost a job?"

Clark's brow furrowed. "Yeah. It was awful, they had to move out of Smallville."

"Now imagine that happened to about a quarter of the families in this town."

" _Oh._ " Clark's eyes widened.

It was quiet for a moment, and Lex didn't feel the need to say any more on that subject. "Ah . . . I have something for you." Lex twisted to reach over toward his nightstand, but his back erupted in pain in six different places, and he gasped.

"No, no, let me get it." Clark walked over to the night stand. "In the drawer?"

"Yeah."

Clark took out a small wrapped package. "This is for me?"

"Uh, yeah." Lex's face felt warm. The present was poorly wrapped—he should have had a servant do it. "It was meant to be a congratulatory gift for getting your powers back."

Clark looked away.

Lex shouldn't have brought that up. They had been making progress. "Just open it."

He did, and looked up in confusion when he saw the small spray cans.

"It's a lead-based paint," Lex said. "Most paint cans spray in a straight line, but this'll spray over a wide area and cover whatever you're aiming at. It'll protect you from the meteor rocks."

"Lex, I—"

"And there's lots more where that came from. I'd love to test it with you, when I'm back on my feet, maybe give you a chance to practice using it . . ."

Lex felt the hope drain out of him as he looked at Clark's face.

It was just as well. Clark's friendship had always been a gift he didn't deserve. "Never mind." He glanced toward the window. "Sun's coming up. Don't you have morning chores?"

Clark looked down at the paint can, then up at Lex. "Thanks for the paint."

Lex half-smiled, and Clark left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm 20 chapters into this story, and I'm right around the midpoint of season 1. Projecting forward, that's, like, 400 chapters to get through the series. On the one hand, I'm gonna keep going on this as long as people are still wanting to read (as I've said, your interest fuels mine). On the other hand, 400 chapters!?
> 
> I'm going to try to get a move on, in terms of the content. I'll definitely take a little more time with Zero and Tempest (oh man, I'm so excited . . .), but if there are any season 1 episodes or plot points you want to see me emphasize rather than rush past, feel free to send me those requests. And, of course, I always enjoy your general feedback.


	21. Altercation

Clark's mom asked him to make a stop at the Fordmans' shop after school to pick up a microwave she'd ordered. It was frustrating to have somewhere to be right after school while things were up in the air with Lex, but Clark wasn't sure where he'd go if he didn't have to stop by the shop. He wanted to make sure Lex was okay, but Lex had kept secrets from him and then tried to manipulating him into maintaining their friendship. Clark really didn't know what to say to him.

Seeing Lex broken and bleeding after having fallen out of that window, Clark had been reminded that whether or not he agreed with Lex's decisions, he still _cared_ about Lex. A lot. Watching Lex groan in pain had been like watching Pete hurt, or his dad. Clark would rather have felt excruciating pain himself than to watch Pete or his dad suffer, and he felt the same way about Lex.

But their friendship was built on trust. And Clark couldn't trust him. Caring about him just mean it hurt more to walk away.

Meanwhile, part of Clark really did want to help find the disc Lex had lost. Even if Clark was upset with Lex himself, he understood why the plant going under would be a bad thing. Besides, Lex had done him a lot of favors over the past few months—maybe helping Lex with this would pay him back, enough that Clark could walk away from that friendship on good terms. Then they wouldn't have to be either friends or enemies—Lex had a good point, that it would be dangerous if they hated each other.

Problem was, Clark didn't even know where to start looking for the disc. The guys who had attacked them the night before could be anywhere by now.

He was still debating with himself about how to handle the situation by the time he reached the Fordmans' shop. After a brief, curt exchange with Whitney, who was still obviously miserable with the recent news of having lost his scholarship, a couple of guys came into the store looking for shoes.

They wore the same tattoos Clark had seen the night before.

Clark stared at the tattoos for a moment, until the bigger of the two guys gave him a look. After that, Clark pretended to be checking out flannel shirts while he listened to the conversation between Whitney and the two guys. One of them sympathized with Whitney's terminated football career, since he'd been through something similar, and he invited Whitney over for a party at their place that evening. Clark didn't look over to confirm, but from the sound of it, the guy had handed Whitney a card with the address written on it.

Once he was sure the guys were gone, Clark sped by the counter where Whitney was working and grabbed the address card while he wasn't looking—Whitney did _not_ need to be getting himself mixed up in that, anyway—and ran to the guy's apartment.

When he arrived, he simply broke the lock and went inside. He was sure he'd beaten them there.

The place was a mess. It would have been almost impossible to find anything in there, if not for his X-ray vision. With it, though, he was easily able to locate the disc, break into the locked cabinet that held it, and slip the disc into his pocket. He saw a few other expensive-looking items in the cabinet—watches, jewelry, trinkets—that might have been stolen, but he didn't know if they were Lex's or someone else's, and he didn't really have a way of confirming they were stolen, so he left them alone.

Clark was turning to go when he ran smack into the third guy.

He was missing an arm. Clark hadn't noticed the night before; he'd been preoccupied. The back of his remaining hand bore a glowing green, circular design. Clark felt the familiar sickness in his stomach, and he stumbled back.

The guy smirked. "What have we here?"

Clark took another step back, but the guy was quicker. He shoved his fist into Clark's stomach—literally.

It was the strangest and most painful sensation Clark had ever felt. He could feel the calloused roughness of the man's fingers scraping along the inside of his stomach, pinching the underside of his skin, brushing against the surface of his ribs. The man opened and closed his fist, and it burned like Clark's insides were being ground up and doused in acid. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't quite pull in a breath. He fell to his knees, gasping.

The guy pulled his hand back out. "And that's just a taste of what it'll be like when my friends get back."

Clark cringed on the floor of the apartment. There was nothing else he could do—the tattoo ink must have been made with meteor rocks. His insides couldn't heal until he could get away from it, and right now, he could barely stand, let alone run.

Unless . . . Clark reached into his pocket. The gift from Lex was still there.

"Hey!" Clark shouted at the guy, though it sounded weaker and more hoarse than he might have liked. "Is that all you've got?"

The guy whirled to face Clark. He coiled back his fist once again, and Clark whipped out the spray paint can and sprayed down his hand. The guy pulled back, blinking, then snarled and tried for another punch. His hand couldn't break Clark's skin this time.

The pain was gone, as was the weakness. Clark stood and punched the guy in the face, careful not to use any more strength than he had used on Lex the day before. The guy fell, knocked out cold.

Clark let his breath out. These guys were bad news all around—if he left now, they would just keep stealing from people and causing more injuries. He considered waiting around for the other two guys to arrive so he could knock them out and call the police, but he was nervous about taking on two at once while he was weakened. He hadn't felt any effects from the tattoo at the Fordmans' shop—the tattoo ink might have to be fresh to affect him—but it was still a big risk.

But Clark didn't have time to contemplate it any further. The front door to the apartment opened, and the other two guys came in.

Clark held his spray paint can at the ready, but he didn't feel any weakness this time. Maybe his theory about fresh tattoos was correct.

The bigger of the two guys took a swing at Clark. Clark caught his fist and shoved the guy back, all but throwing him. The guy went down, hitting his head on the wall with a loud _Crack!_ and falling to the floor.

Clark turned to the smaller guy, ready to fight him off as well, but the smaller guy cowered, holding his hands out. "Whoa, man, let's—let's just talk, okay? Chill out."

"You threw my friend out a window."

"It was an accident, I swear!"

"He almost died because of you!" Clark only belatedly realized he'd used the word _friend_.

"I know, I know, just . . . Hey." The guy put both hands up and took a step back, toward his friends. "I'm just gonna check their pulse. Please don't hurt me."

Clark unclenched his fist, but he kept the spray can at the ready.

The guy went over to the one-armed man, putting two fingers to his neck. He nodded and went over to the other guy, but swore under his breath when he got there. Clark went over to stand beside him—the man's neck was bent at an odd angle.

Clark felt his heart drop into his stomach.

The last thug stood up, taking a cell phone out of his pocket. "Please let me call him an ambulance."

Clark nodded and took a step toward the guy. "Yeah, let me help—"

"No, no!" The guy cringed, and Clark stepped back. "Leave us alone, get out of here!"

"But—I want to help—"

"You've done enough!"

"I didn't mean to . . . I was just . . ." Clark began to breathe hard, and he darted out of the apartment.

He paused just outside the door, pressing his back against the outside wall. He had killed someone. It wasn't exactly the first time someone had died while fighting with him, but it _was_ the first time he'd watched the person die. The first time Clark hadn't been defending someone's life. That guy did _not_ have to die. And the fear in that last guy's eyes . . .

Panic overwhelmed him. Clark sank to the ground, his heart pounding harder than it ever had. This wasn't who he wanted to be. He just wanted to help people, but he'd done so much more harm than good here. He felt like his insides were being chewed up again, only this time, it didn't stop—it just kept getting worse.

He couldn't even talk to anyone about this. He couldn't let his parents know what he'd done—they'd want to know how Clark had gotten involved in the first place, and he couldn't tell anyone that without revealing his connection to Lex.

Clark reached into his pocket for his cell phone to call for help—though he still didn't know who he was going to call—but his fingers brushed against the paint can that Lex had given him. He'd be dead if he hadn't had it with him. He also came across the disc—he wouldn't have come here in the first place if it weren't for Lex. He wouldn't even have his powers.

Try though he might, he couldn't hang onto any anger about that part. This wasn't Lex's fault. The paint can had been Lex's attempt to help. Giving Clark his powers back was another way he'd been trying to help. The disc was about keeping the plant open. None of this was Lex's fault—it was Clark's, and Clark's alone.

It was hard to believe that, a few hours ago, Clark had been upset with Lex for having that meteor rock room in his home. Clark deserved to be in there for life. He was dangerous.

Clark thought about calling Lex, but he had _killed_ someone. What would Lex say about that? He didn't deserve to have his powers back, though if Lex hadn't retrieved them from Eric, Clark probably would have tried to find a way to get them back. Somehow, Lex had done it without even injuring Eric. Clark had been so sure that Lex was wrong in the way he'd handled Eric, but now Clark didn't know what he would have done better.

Maybe if they understood more about the meteor rocks and their effects, they could have played things differently . . . though Lex had tried to investigate more into that, and Clark had gotten upset about that, too. Clark grimaced.

He swallowed hard, took out his phone, and dialed Lex's number.

Lex picked up before the second ring. "Lex Luthor."

"Lex . . . I—" Clark's voice broke.

"Clark, are you okay?"

"I messed up." His eyes stung. "I _really_ messed up."

"Where are you?"

"I found those thugs, I'm at their apartment."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I . . ." Clark wiped at his eyes. "I hurt them."

"Can you get to the mansion?"

Clark stood up, and his legs shook. He'd never experienced anything like it before in his life—weakness that had nothing to do with the meteor rocks. "Um, I can try."

"Text me the address. I'll come get you."

"Lex, you don't have to—"

"I'll leave as soon as I hear from you."

Clark squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay."

"See you soon."

"Okay."

Clark hung up the phone, texted Lex the address, sat beside the door, and pulled his knees into his chest.


	22. Pact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the rating on this from G to T, not due to events coming up, but because I think the violence in the past few chapters just bumps it up.

Toby would have been all over Lex if he knew Lex was driving so soon after his accident. His right arm was in a sling, he was still dizzy from the pain meds, and he could barely turn his head to scan the road.

But Clark was in trouble. Nothing else mattered.

He pulled up to the apartment building. Clark sat on the concrete with his back against the wall, his forehead resting on his knees. Lex took a deep breath and got out of the car.

"Hey." He glanced down at what he was wearing to decide whether he was willing to sit on the concrete, then decided it didn't matter. He sat down next to Clark on the ground. "You want to talk about it?"

Clark looked up and took the disc out of his pocket. "I got you this."

Lex's eyes widened and he took the disc with his less injured hand. "You just saved over two thousand jobs."

"Good," Clark said, but his gaze was distant.

"What's on your mind?"

"Does it still hurt?"

Lex blinked. "Ah, it was a pretty serious fall, Clark, but I'm on some good pain meds—"

"Your face. Where I . . ." Clark looked away.

"Oh." Lex knew it looked bad. He didn't see that it would do any good to tell Clark that it was the most painful of his bruises. "Not really."

" _Please_ don't lie to me."

Lex sighed. "It doesn't bother me when I don't think about it. It's sort of a dull ache when I do, and it's bad when I touch it."

"I don't know what that's like."

"You know what pain feels like."

"I can't imagine bruising. Like . . . the idea that something hurts to touch." Clark hung his head. "I'm sorry."

Lex didn't even know how to accept the apology without making Clark feel worse. "Hey. Want to come back to my place? We can talk more there."

"Okay." Clark stood slowly and climbed into the passenger's seat of Lex's car.

Lex drove back home as cautiously as he could. They were quiet on the drive, which was fine with him—he needed all of his energy and focus to get them both to the mansion safely.

They walked together from the garage up to the study. Lex lowered himself onto the couch as soon as he was there, and sighed in relief—even that short trip out had exhausted him. Clark sat on the couch across from him.

It was quiet for a long time, and Lex let it be. Clark would need time to process, and Lex needed time to rest. He knew he probably should have had someone drive him to pick up Clark, but he just didn't want to get anyone else involved. Clark wouldn't have wanted him to, either—he had made that abundantly clear.

"I was at Whitney's family's shop," Clark said after awhile. "There was a guy there with a tattoo that looked like the ones we saw last night. He gave Whitney his address, and I stole it and broke into the apartment to get your disc."

Lex didn't let himself smile, though on the inside he felt elated that Clark had been willing to do that for him.

"One of the thugs was there. He . . . he put his hand _through_ my stomach and started tearing up my insides, and when he pulled his hand out, I sprayed it with the paint you gave me, and I knocked him out. The other two guys came back, and I knocked out one of them by throwing him against a wall, but I threw too hard, and . . ." Clark's face crumpled, and he buried it in his hands.

Lex's heart shredded as he watched his best friend suffer. He knew from experience that there was nothing he could say, but also that saying nothing was his _worst_ option. So he took a deep breath. "Clark, listen to me."

Clark lowered his hands, though his eyes were red.

"When I was sixteen . . ." Lex winced. He'd never told anyone this story before, and now he was going to tell the person who was still probably mad at him for the mistakes he'd made over the past couple of days. The one person who had the power to make his life worth living, if only he could win his trust back. But if Clark needed to hear the story for his own healing . . . "I had a friend. Duncan Allenmeyer. We got in a fight, and I hit him."

Clark's eyes snapped up to meet Lex's, but there was no fear or judgement in his eyes, simply curiosity.

Lex swallowed. "I hit him over and over, and I drove him into the street. A car came by, and . . . Duncan is dead. And that's on me."

Clark winced.

"I've tried to do better since then, learn from my mistakes."

It all sounded so fake, so trite. Clark looked away again.

Lex tried for honesty: "I blamed myself. I still do. You never really get over that kind of guilt. You don't heal."

No, that wasn't what Clark needed to hear, either. Lex was failing at this. But he couldn't make Clark stew in silence any longer. That was what Lex's father had done to him when Duncan died.

"I think, over time, you learn to live with it. It's what makes you human. I mean—" He could have kicked himself for that last bit. Clark _wasn't_ human. "Um . . ."

Clark dissolved into tears, sobbing into his open hands.

Lex had _no_ idea what to do with that. Luthors didn't cry, weren't allowed to cry. His father had beaten him for crying more than once, beaten him until the sobbing became inconsolable and then refused to stop the blows until Lex stopped his tears. He could only guess at what he was supposed to do with a crying friend, based on what he'd seen in movies as a kid, and based on what his mother had done. He went over to the couch where Clark was sitting and awkwardly put a hand on his back.

It struck Lex then, what he usually forgot or pushed aside in his mind: Clark was a _child_. Lex had been a child when he'd killed Duncan at sixteen; Clark was only fourteen. As much as Lex might see him as a best friend, he would always be more like a little brother. Lex was fine with that—God knew how much he wanted a little brother—but it was hard to hold it in his mind. Clark didn't look his age, and most of the time, he didn't act it, either. But Lex had been so wrong to send Clark after those thugs. It might have been morally gray to send someone his own age after them; sending Clark was _wrong_.

Clark kept crying, but Lex didn't know anything else he could do, so he just stayed there, alternating between patting his back and gently rubbing circles. It occurred to Lex that if Clark did need to cry, he needed to do it here—he probably wasn't going to be willing to share what had happened with his parents or with any other kids.

When the crying had been reduced to sniffles, Clark softly asked, "Are you afraid of me?"

"Uh . . ." Lex took his hand away from Clark's back. Once again, the truth wouldn't help, but lying would be worse. There was no use lying when the listener knew it was a lie. "Sometimes. Are you afraid of me?"

"A little. You know my secrets."

"I know I broke your trust, Clark, but I'm truly sorry. I'm wondering if you'd be willing to give me a second chance. I don't want to be the person who kidnapped Eric and hired a mineralogist behind your back."

Clark's eyes shone. "Eric is _alive_."

"Clark—"

"I—I don't want to be the person who did _this_."

Lex sighed heavily. "You know what they say about power corrupting. I think both of us have too much of it for our own good. But we can keep each other in check. You're the only person who can hold me accountable for my . . . eccentricities, and I'm the only person who can stop you, if you . . ."

Clark raised his eyebrows. "Become like Eric?"

"The whole world can thank God you're you." A slight smile played with the corners of his lips.

Clark's face was dead serious. "Keep that meteor rock room. Just in case."

"I will," Lex said solemnly. "And Clark? I try to deny it, but my father's blood runs through my veins. If you ever have to use your strength to stop me from doing something . . . I forbid you to feel guilty about it."

"I never want to hit you again."

"And I never want to use meteor rock on you. But for better or for worse, we both have too much power, and we're the only ones who can balance each other."

"Doesn't that make us enemies?"

"No. It makes us friends." Lex raised his eyebrows. "If you're willing."

"I'm the one who hurt you."

"It's long forgiven."

Clark stood, and Lex pushed himself up as well. Clark wrapped his arms very gently around Lex, as though he was afraid of making Lex's injuries worse—and Lex appreciated that, since his back and arms were still sensitive. Lex hugged back as tightly as he could without hurting himself.

Lex patted his back a couple of times and let go. "You should be getting home. Your parents will worry."

"Can I come back Monday? For my . . . internship."

Lex smiled, his throat tightening. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," he said.


	23. Talon

A couple of days after the incident with the masked bandits—who, according to the news, were arrested shortly after Clark left their apartment—Clark checked in with Lana to make sure Whitney was okay. He'd seemed pretty down when Clark had run into him at the shop. Lana said she felt helpless trying to help Whitney, but he was getting by—she had another concern on her mind. She'd tried to talk to Lex about restoring the Talon, where her parents had first met, and Lex had shot her down.

Clark almost offered to talk to Lex for her, but he stopped himself at the last second. No one was supposed to know about his friendship with Lex. Lana had seen them talking to each other once at the Beanery, and Clark had asked her to keep it quiet, but that didn't mean she knew they were friends. Some secrets were better left unspoken. So instead, he just suggested she make it a business proposal, and he even offered to help her with some of the research. He knew keeping the plant open was important to Lex, and that he'd probably be more practical than sentimental when it came to his investments—he took his work pretty seriously.

The next time Clark saw Lana, she was elated. She said she couldn't thank Clark enough for his suggestion. Clark felt like he was flying.

Clark planned to ask Lex if it would be okay for him to help Lana with setting up the Talon for a little while instead of coming to the mansion, but Lex beat him to it. They were putting a rush on the grand opening, and there was a lot of work to be done. For the next two weeks, Clark spent every day after school helping Lana at the Talon.

Ironically, the biggest obstacle to this was his dad, who was uncomfortable with the fact that Lex was involved with the Talon restorations. He didn't think Clark should be missing his internship for two weeks solid. Clark almost failed to hold back his laughter.

He mostly stayed away from Lex while he was at the Talon, since Lana's other friends from high school were usually around, and they all knew Clark. Lex looked pretty stressed, anyway, so Clark figured it was better to let him focus on his work. He wasn't exactly complaining about having the extra time to focus on Lana. She was clearly loving every minute of this—she positively glowed.

Clark wished he could help Lex, though. He _really_ looked stressed.

* * *

Lex hadn't been sure about what it would be like to work with a teenager, but he decided to take his chances with Lana when he saw the sheer amount of work she'd put into the proposal for the Talon. It turned out to be more enjoyable than he expected. Lana was naive about quite a lot of things related to running a business, but they were the types of things for which he admired her innocence. She didn't know how to be cutthroat, and that kept him honest.

Honesty was something he wasn't used to. He expected it from his employees, and he gave it in return—up to an appropriate extent, of course—but his competitors lied through their teeth, the LuthorCorp board could be underhanded and manipulative, and his conversations with his father were nothing more than an ongoing game that they'd been playing since Lex was a child. But when it came to the Talon, Lex found himself playing by the book. It was good practice for his friendship with Clark.

However, his new resolution to honesty wasn't quite enough to get him to open up to Clark when he ran into Max Kasich. He didn't want Clark getting involved in anything related to that terrible night at Club Zero, and besides, telling as few people as possible would protect Kasich. Clark did ask why Lex seemed stressed, but Lex just muttered something about the plant.

He still kept his growing dread to himself when he heard that someone by the name of Jude Royce had applied for the assistant manager position at the Talon. He figured it was someone's idea of a sick joke. But when Kasich's hand showed up in a gift box at the Talon, addressed to Lex, he began to panic.

Kasich had claimed to have _seen_ Jude Royce—they could be dealing with another shape-shifter, or worse. Something truly dangerous was going on. He wanted to tackle it alone, to protect anyone else, but dangerous could get out of hand fast in Smallville, especially if meteor rock was involved.

After they found the hand, Clark came to visit Lex at the mansion. "What's going on, Lex?" Clark asked the question as soon as he entered the study. "And tell me the truth this time."

Lex poured himself a drink. He tried not to drink too much while Clark was around, but he really needed it tonight. "The truth is, I don't want you getting mixed up in this. Some secrets are better left alone."

Clark was quiet for a moment, then he shook his head. "No."

"No, what?"

"Not this one. I'm not leaving this alone. Not until I know you're safe."

"Clark—"

"You know my secrets. So you know I can protect you."

"I don't want your protection. I want _you_ to be safe."

"And I want you to be." Clark crossed his arms. "I want to help."

"Clark, whoever killed Max Kasich could come after you, too."

"Only if they know I'm your friend. How could they know that?"

Lex rubbed his forehead. There had been news reports about Clark saving Lex's life at the bridge. Weeks later, the cameras had caught a moment of Clark hugging Lex after the hostage situation at the plant. People who lived in Smallville knew the circumstances behind the encounters; someone from the outside might assume Lex and Clark were close.

"Look, whoever this is . . ." Clark winced. "If they _are_ coming after me, the best thing you can do is let me know what to prepare for."

Lex took a deep breath. It was a story he'd never told anyone—Amanda's life depended on him keeping it secret. "Clark, you can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

"Your secret's safe. I promise."

Lex swallowed hard. "Three years ago, I had this friend. Amanda Rothman. She was a nice girl—smart, pretty. I liked her. She was engaged to a lowlife named Jude Royce, who cheated on her every chance he could get."

"Wait, Jude Royce—the guy who sent in an application at the Talon?"

"That's his name." Lex took a deep breath. "Anyway. I didn't want to try to tell Amanda the man she loved was a worthless piece of trash, so I showed her instead. Found out where Jude was going to be, took Amanda out as a friend, so she'd see him there, with a girl on each arm. Then she'd know who he was."

"That must have been a shock to her. You didn't give her any warning?"

"No. I wanted to deal with the fallout myself." Lex didn't suppose it would be worth anything to explain to a fourteen-year-old that he'd only been nineteen at the time. He'd had this glorious image in his mind—thought Amanda would run into his arms, that he'd wipe away her tears, and over time, she might come to love him. "I . . . _really_ liked her."

Clark raised his eyebrows. "Oh! That's . . . _oh!_ "

Lex let out a short laugh without smiling. "Not that it's a side of me you'd have seen, but I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic."

"I wouldn't have guessed that."

Lex hoped Clark would never come to see that side of him. Hurting over Victoria in front of him had been embarrassing enough. "Well, anyway. Amanda sees Jude. She throws her engagement ring at him, storms out. I gloat a bit before following her out. We're trying to get through the crowds, and suddenly Jude comes up behind me and starts a fight. He pulls out a knife and stabs me in the shoulder, then I hear a gunshot, and I look back, and . . . Amanda's got a gun. She's killed him."

Clark's jaw dropped. "What happened to her?"

"She's okay, as far as I know. The cops showed up. This dirty cop who works for my father came to talk to me. I told him I killed Jude."

" _Why?_ "

"To protect Amanda. If my father thought I killed someone, he would pay to have it covered up." Not that Lex had exactly escaped that without consequences—his father had been quite creative about punishment.

"So what do people think happened?"

"Well, if you ask the dirty cop, I killed Royce. If you look at the police report or the newspapers, Royce was killed by an accidental shot from a security guard, and I was never at Club Zero. The dirty cop told me I could never contact anyone from that night again. Not Amanda. Not the security guard, who was my friend, Max Kasich." Lex swallowed hard. "Then, the other day, Kasich shows up at the Talon saying he's seen Jude Royce. And Lana says a man by that name just filled out a job application for assistant manager at the Talon."

"Could—could he be another shape shifter? You know, a meteor mutant?"

Lex had thought about that possibility, though it was sometimes difficult to think rationally about anything having to do with Club Zero. "I don't know, Clark. All I know is, he's circling in. He attacked Kasich, then the Talon—if he has any idea we're friends, you might be next."

"Any chance they could know about my weakness?"

"I don't see how they could."

"Then I'm going to stay close by to protect you. Maybe I'll tell my dad I'm working late nights at my internship to make up for lost time."

"I'll pay you overtime."

Clark rolled his eyes. "You don't have to do that."

"Gotta keep up the cover." Lex smiled. "And if they do come after me—"

"I won't let anyone hurt you." Clark's voice went soft: "Not again."

Lex let his eyes fall closed. A big part of him still wanted to tell Clark to stay away. Lex didn't like the idea of Clark getting himself mixed up in this, but there was a good chance that Clark being on high alert would protect both of them. That alone made it worth it.

Besides, the only way to convince Clark to stay out of it would have been to refuse to tell him what was going on. In Lex's experience, secrets and lies only tore apart relationships. That was the last thing he wanted to happen with him and Clark.


	24. Bait

Clark spent the next few afternoons at the Talon, and his evenings at the mansion. He didn't like the idea of leaving Lex unprotected at night, but Lex assured him that he'd doubled down on security, and even Clark wouldn't be able to do much more than they could.

Clark spent so much time protecting the Talon and the mansion that he was completely blindsided when the farm was attacked.

He came home to an empty house one evening, and wandered around the property until he found his parents. They stood before a field of dead cattle. Bubbling liquids soaked into the grass, alongside steel drums labeled with the LuthorCorp logo. People in hazmat suits swarmed the field.

Clark swallowed hard. He felt like a hole had been carved out of his chest. He knew it wasn't Lex's fault, though he would tell Lex what had happened, of course. But Lex could never understand the sheer amount of work and care that had gone into that herd without being a farmer himself. Lex would never understand the devastation Clark's parents must have been feeling, and would be feeling for a long time.

Taking a deep breath, Clark reached out and put a hand on his dad's shoulder. His dad turned, eyes red with tears, and pulled Clark into his arms. His mother held him from the other side.

"I'm glad you're okay," his dad whispered.

Clark's eyes stung, and he held on tighter, though he remained mindful of his strength. He expected his dad to launch into another rant about the evils of LuthorCorp, but he didn't. Maybe he felt like the events of the day were enough; maybe he was just too deep in grieving.

Clark heard a car pull up behind them, and he turned to see Lex coming out of his car. He winced and shook his head, gesturing for Lex to leave, but Lex only sighed. Clark knew how Lex could be about his company, but whatever his sense of responsibility, this was a _bad_ time. Clark's dad was going to tear Lex apart.

Lex cleared his throat. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent . . . I have no idea how this could have happened. But I'll do everything in my power to find out. And I'll pay for your livestock, of course."

Clark's dad turned, venom in his eyes. "Oh, you think that's how you solve everything, don't you, Lex? Just sprinkle a little money on it and hope the problem goes away. Well, obviously some things are a little more difficult then that."

Lex's face fell. Clark wanted nothing more than to defend his friend, but even if his dad had known they were friends, there would have been nothing he could say.

When Clark was sure his parents had gone, he went to stand beside Lex, who was lightly kicking the fence.

"It's not your fault," Clark said softly.

"Tell that to your father. I didn't think it was possible to fall any further in his eyes. Obviously, I was wrong." He looked Clark right in the eyes. "I think that's the last step. Whoever this is, they've gone after everyone I care about. Unless they're deluded enough to think I'm close to my father, I'm next."

"You think they're going to come after you?"

"I think they've made too much of a statement at this point to come and kill me quickly."

"W-what do you think they're gonna do?"

"I dunno. They might come and take me hostage in my own home. Or they might abduct me."

"Well, I'm not leaving you until they come. I'll tell my dad the lab wants me to do an overnight . . . something. And I'll save you just as soon as they try to take you."

"No, don't do that."

Clark's breath caught. "You're gonna lecture me about putting myself in danger?"

"No, it's not that. I still want you to stay close until this is over. If they come after me, let them take me. I need a chance to get some information out of them. Follow behind at a distance, and only save me once we know what's going on."

"Lex, _no_ —"

" _Yes_ , Clark. We don't know what this thing is. Could be another shape shifter, or something else. Now, I know this has something to do with Club Zero, but if meteor rock is involved, I don't want to risk anyone else getting hurt."

Part of Clark was thankful that Lex wasn't telling him to keep out of this altogether, but he couldn't imagine _letting_ Lex get hurt himself. "If someone's trying to hurt you, I'm not going to _let_ them just so you can get information."

"I'll be fine. If it gets to be too much for me, I'll use a code word, and you can come rescue me."

"Okay, what's the code word?"

"Um . . . _crazy_."

Clark frowned. He didn't like this, but he knew he would have done the exact same thing if someone were threatening him—he would have wanted to know what was going on in the hopes of being able to protect people in the future. Whoever this was, they'd already killed Max Kasich, along with an entire field of cattle.

Clark didn't get a chance to think about it any further. At that moment, a police officer approached Lex. "Mr. Luthor, a CEP guy needs to talk to you. He's over there."

Lex nodded, and turned to Clark. "Go give your dad your cover story. I'll see you back at the mansion."

"Okay." Clark started back toward the house, heart pounding. He wasn't exactly sure what cover story he was going to use—as supportive as his parents had been about his internship, Clark couldn't imagine them being okay with him spending the night at his workplace, on a school night, with only a few minutes' notice, especially in the wake of a tragedy. But somehow, he had to convince them. It was the only way to protect Lex.

Clark frowned—he didn't like to leave Lex alone even now. He glanced back over his shoulder at the CEP van, just to make sure everything was okay one more time.

The van was driving away, and Clark couldn't see Lex anywhere, but Lex's car was still parked and empty. Clark squinted, using his X-Ray vision—a knocked out figure lay in the back of the van.

Clark swallowed hard and turned to run after the van. He remained a little distance away, hiding behind trees as much as he could so he wouldn't be seen at all. Long-distance vision wasn't exactly one of his powers, but he did have much better vision than most people, so he was able to follow behind for awhile.

The van pulled up to a warehouse, and the driver opened the door of the van and dragged Lex inside. Clark waited until he was out of sight, then he went to break the lock, remaining a little ways behind them so he wouldn't be seen, allowing the sounds of footsteps and Lex's body being dragged to guide him.

The sounds stopped, and Clark hid in the shadows behind a wall. He could hear shuffling, and a peek in the direction they'd gone told him that the kidnapper was putting Lex into a straightjacket. Lex still wasn't waking up; Clark figured it might be awhile.

Everything in Clark wanted to go save Lex now. He could do it so easily—knock out the kidnapper and carry Lex away and back to the mansion. Clark could be home before his parents even realized he was gone. But Lex was right about finding out what was going on. Besides, if the kidnapper was putting Lex in a straightjacket, he wasn't planning to kill him right away. Torture him, maybe, but not kill him. Clark only hoped Lex would remember the code word.

It could be hours before Lex woke up, and maybe even longer before that conversation took place. Clark winced—his dad was going to wonder where he was, but Clark didn't have time to go back and explain what he was doing, or leave them a note, or call Pete and ask him to cover. Lex could work with him on a cover story once he was safe, one that would protect their friendship even if it got Clark in trouble.

No matter what story Clark used, he was in for the grounding of his life when he got back, and this time, he doubted his dad would let him off on a technicality. But none of that mattered.


	25. Bullets

Lex's eyes fluttered open. His head pounded, and sweat dripped down his face—or rather, dripped _up_ his face. The room was upside down; his ankles were numb. He went to wipe the sweat away, but his arms were pressed against his sides by the straightjacket.

Adrenaline flooded through his veins. He pulled hard against the restraints, swinging, and breathed in to call for help, but then it all came back to him. He'd been taken from the Kent farm. Clark would have noticed it happen. He'd have followed, and he would be watching. Lex couldn't call out for help yet; he still needed to find out what was going on with the dead man.

He swallowed hard. This was a torture position; he might have to use the code word early if he couldn't stand the pain. He steeled himself—his father would have berated him for thinking that way. Luthors weren't weak.

A voice: "You ready to talk? You're finally where you should have been three years ago. Exposed in the spotlight."

Lex cleared his throat. "You're Jude Royce, aren't you?"

The man walked into the room and stood before Lex. It was impossible, of course—but maybe Lex could find out who he really was.

Lex tried to catch his eye. "What do you want from me?"

"The truth about Club Zero."

Lex tried to adjust his weight to regain some feeling in his feet, but it was no use. "If I tell you the truth, you tell me how you survived?"

Jude scoffed and coiled back a fist.

Pain exploded in Lex's abdomen, and he swung, gasping.

"Let's get one thing straight, Lex. I call the shots here. You've got no leverage. No cards to play. So why don't you tell me what happened?"

Lex struggled against the straightjacket, but finally he let his breath out. Talking hurt his head, but he managed to get through the rehearsed explanation of the events at Club Zero: "You were cheating on Amanda. I took her to Club Zero to catch you in the act. We fought, you stabbed me. Max Kasich was working security and shot you in defense."

"Liar! That's what it said in the papers, but that's not what really happened.

"It's the _truth!_ Read the police reports."

"I know you covered it up. I don't know how you did it, but you're going to pay." Jude held up a gun to Lex's head.

Lex was out of time. He had to use the code word—but in the panic of the moment, he had _no_ idea what he'd told Clark the code word was.

"Daddy can't save you this time, Lex."

Lex squeezed his eyes closed. If Clark was here, he'd probably know to come to Lex's rescue, and Lex would probably live. If not . . .

His life flashed before his eyes, and he wondered if anyone would even miss him besides Clark. His father wouldn't, and no one had loved him since his mother. His nanny had betrayed him. He'd killed his best friend from school, and his little brother. And Amanda might not ever even know he was dead . . .

The gunshot came, and Lex flinched, but when he opened his eyes, Clark stood in front of him. Clark winced and grabbed at the back of his shoulder. " _Ow_ ," he whispered, then whirled around.

Lex craned his neck to look past Clark. A familiar man stood with a gun, mouth hanging open.

Clark smirked. "You missed," he said.

The man gasped. "How did—how . . ."

Lex's brow furrowed, glancing from Jude Royce, who was out cold on the floor, to Clark, back up to the man with the smoking gun. "You're the contractor from the Talon."

The man didn't say anything, just cocked the gun again. Clark knocked it out of his hand—it flew across the room and smashed against a wall—then raised a hand to hit the contractor in the head. At the last moment, he shook his head and stepped back, wincing. He glanced back at Lex, and the look was clear. It had been too recently that Clark had hurt someone. He'd taken down Jude to save Lex's life, but he didn't want to hit an unarmed man.

Lex worried the contractor might dart for the gun again, but the man just stood, frozen, panic in his eyes. "Who _are_ you?"

"I'm Lex's best friend. I'm the one you have to go through if you want to hurt him." Clark stepped back to Lex and turned him to undo the buckles on the straightjacket.

As soon as Lex's arms were free, he pulled himself up to reach for the ropes around his ankles. His weakness startled him—his abdomen throbbed before he could pull himself up halfway.

"Here." Clark reached up and untied him.

"Wait, wait—" Lex dropped to the floor, his shoulder striking hard.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"I'm okay." The pain in his shoulder was nothing to what he was feeling in his legs now that the blood was rushing back to them.

Clark disappeared suddenly, and when Lex managed to pull himself up to sitting, he saw Clark holding the contractor's hands behind his back. Apparently the contractor had tried to make a run for the gun.

Clark looked up at Lex. "No meteor rocks. Not on this guy or his . . . friend." He nodded toward Jude Royce.

"Who is he?" Lex asked the contractor.

The contractor spat in Lex's direction.

Clark tightened his grip, and the man winced. " _Who_ is he?" Clark shouted. "A shape shifter?"

"He's just a lookalike! I swear! I hired him to help me avenge my sister."

"Your sister?" Lex pushed himself up to kneeling, hoping to stand, but sat back down—his legs were practically gelatin.

"Amanda Rothman. She committed suicide because of what you did to her, you bastard!" He wrenched away from Clark suddenly and lunged toward Lex, managing to get in one hard kick to the ribs before Clark caught up and grabbed him again.

Lex shouted, doubling over in pain. Their plan had been for nothing—Clark could have saved him sooner. There was nothing related to the meteor rocks here.

"My hands are a bit full," Clark said. "Think you're up for a call to the police?"

Lex nodded. They had enough evidence to make a case. They were both witnesses, and the Jude Royce lookalike would take their side when he found out the contractor had tried to kill him. Aside from that, the forensics team at the Kent farm would find the contractor's fingerprints all over the steel drums that had leaked the toxic materials, if Lex told them what to look for. There would be some evidence of the struggle in the van as well.

Lex rubbed feeling into his tingling arms before reaching into his pocket for his cell phone.

* * *

The police gave them a ride back to the mansion. Clark walked Lex through the halls in the mansion, arm supporting him under his shoulders, similar to the way he had after Lex fell out of the window.

"You're bulletproof," Lex said as soon as they knew they were alone.

"Kind of." Clark's shoulder still hurt badly from the impact, even though the bullets hadn't pierced his skin.

"That's amazing."

Clark couldn't hold back his smile.

Lex tried to turn toward the study, but Clark guided him toward his room instead.

"Ah, right," Lex said. "Need to get ready. Talon grand opening tonight."

"Not for you," Clark said. "You're going to sleep."

"Don't be ridiculous, Clark, Lana—"

"Will be just fine without you. You were tortured today."

"You prevented that."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "How'd they get you in the van?"

"Ah, taser? I think?"

"So you were electrocuted, hung upside down overnight, punched, kicked, fell on your shoulder—"

"I'm _fine_."

"Okay." Clark pulled away his supporting arm.

Lex winced and immediately leaned against the wall.

"See? You're _not_ fine."

"I've got a couple of hours until the opening. I'll take some painkillers and get some rest."

Clark offered his supporting arm again, and Lex leaned against him. "No, Lex. You're not overdosing on painkillers so you can go to a party."

"I promised Lana I'd be there."

"She'll understand." They'd arrived at Lex's room. Clark pushed the door open and helped Lex over to his bed. "I'll go grab you some painkillers."

"Grab me some coffee while you're at it?"

"I'll tell the kitchen staff to make you some chamomile."

"No, that'll put me to sleep."

"That's the idea."

"Clark . . ."

Clark stood up straight and crossed his arms, imitating the look his dad gave him when he wasn't going to let something go. "You're not well, Lex. And letting you get kidnapped was a stupid idea. _Your_ stupid idea."

"It would have been worth it if—"

"No, it wouldn't have." Clark understood that now. It had been hard enough to watch Lex hang, unconscious, by his ankles overnight. Seeing the pain in his eyes when he landed . . . Clark wasn't going to allow it again. "I'm not gonna let you hurt yourself any more."

Lex let his head drop, and he nodded. "Okay, Clark." He adjusted himself so he was laying down, though he winced on the way down.

"Might be awhile before I see you after this. I'm going to be grounded for weeks."

"Nothing I can do about that?"

"Not without making it worse." Clark gave a slight smile and went to grab the painkillers and send word to the kitchen staff.

* * *

Clark's mom was crying hysterically when he returned home. His parents had been up all night long, worrying about him. Her hug would have been crushing if he hadn't been invulnerable, and the guilt of making her worry would have overcome him if he weren't certain that Lex would be dead if he'd made any other decision.

He couldn't tell the truth about where he'd been all night, but he couldn't completely lie either—word would get back to his dad, since Sheriff Ethan was his friend. Clark managed to make it sound as if stumbling upon Lex and saving his life had been an accident, but he remained evasive about why he never picked up the phone.

The scolding his dad gave him was the hardest he'd ever received in his life, focusing on how badly Clark had broken their trust and how deeply he had disappointed them. Clark never would have admitted it to anyone, but he spent minutes on end sobbing into his pillow after his dad left his room. When they'd all calmed down, though, Clark was able to negotiate permission to attend the Talon grand opening in exchange for an extra week of grounding on top of the month he already had. Lucky for him, though, his dad also insisted he continue attending his internship, even asking if he could pick up extra shifts to make up for the ones he'd missed while helping with the Talon.

The Talon looked even better than Clark had imagined it. Lana had managed to pull quite a lot together at the last minute—the decor was amazing, and the place was absolutely flooded with people.

Lana herself, of course, was absolutely glowing. It took his breath away.

She came over to him when he arrived. "Well? What do you think?"

"I'm definitely surprised." He was vaguely aware of how stupid he sounded, but his heart was still pounding a million times a minute.

"Me too. But, um . . . it's weird, I haven't seen Lex."

Clark looked around to make sure his dad wasn't around, then softly said, "He was hurt today."

Lana's eyes widened. "Oh no! What happened?"

"He's okay, and he's safe. The police took the guys who hurt him. But, uh, he's in a lot of pain, and he needs to rest."

She frowned. "How did you hear about it? You barely know Lex. Actually, you seem to be _avoiding_ him every time you help out at the Talon."

Clark swallowed—time to change the subject. "I got this for you." He took the wrapped package from behind his back. "Don't worry. It's not a body part. It was up in the attic, it was my grandfather's."

She smiled and unwrapped the frame with the photo of the Talon.

"It was taken just after the Talon opened. I figured you could hang it up above the counter."

She looked him right in the eyes. "Clark, it's amazing. Thank you."

His heart just about stopped.

Glass shattered at the other side of the room. "I better get back to work," Lana said.

She started to walk away, but Clark called after her, "How does it feel?"

She grinned. "Terrifying. Don't tell anybody."

"Your secret's safe with me." Clark was floating. He barely noticed his dad come up beside him.

"They really did a great job with this place," his dad said.

Clark swallowed hard, crashing down hard after the elation of the last few minutes. "You sound surprised."

"Ah, I guess I am. Considering who was heading it up."

Clark's heart pounded hard for a completely different reason. "Lana?"

His dad let out a short laugh. "Well, I suppose you're right, son. I was thinking of Lex Luthor, but it's pretty clear his hand wasn't in this at all. He couldn't even be bothered to show up for the opening."

Clark breathed in to correct him, but finally just let out his breath. "Yeah," he said. "It's like he doesn't even care."

"I think he might have been using the Talon as a way to get close to you, son. I'm glad you haven't let him win." His dad squeezed his shoulder. "I admit, I'm still not happy about last night, but . . . I'm glad you're coming to understand how important it is to keep away from the Luthors, son."

Determination renewed to keep his friendship with Lex a secret, Clark nodded. "Me too, Dad."


	26. Learning

Lex healed fast for a human, at least based on Clark's limited experience. Clark's next "internship" visit was spent mostly sitting on the couch, talking and laughing— though Lex winced every time Clark made him laugh. But by the visit after that, he was back on his feet and ready to do experiments.

Lex bought a couple of new pieces of equipment to help Clark learn how to handle himself in a fight. One of them was a set of boxing mitts. The other was a speed bag—a tiny punching back that hung from a circular mount, free to swivel and swing in all directions. Lex said the point was to hit it in such a way that it bounced off the ceiling of the mount and returned.

"Let's start with this, see where you're at." Lex put on one of the mitts and held it up to Clark. "Hit me."

Clark swallowed hard. "Shouldn't I be wearing gloves or something?"

Lex shook his head. "Gloves would be to protect your hands. I don't think you'll be needing any protection." He shook the mitt. "Hit me."

"I'm not sure about this . . ."

"You have to practice sometime."

Clark winced and tapped the mitt with his fist.

Lex lowered his hand. "How old are you, six? Come on, hero."

Clark hit a little harder, but just barely—he was afraid to hurt his friend.

"Congratulations, you just turned seven."

"Lex!"

"We can end this now if you're not gonna take it seriously."

Clark wanted to leave, but he knew he needed to learn how to control himself. He hit the bag a little harder—it made a _loud_ clapping noise, and Lex let out a gasp. Clark darted forward. "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?"

Lex shook out his hand, dropping the mitt as he did. "I'm fine."

"I don't know how to control how hard I hit." Clark was no longer surprised he'd accidentally killed a couple of people; he was surprised that he'd ever managed to knock anyone out _without_ killing them.

"Ah . . . let's try the speed bag for a little while."

But the speed bag was even worse. It took Clark an embarrassingly long time to learn how to use it—it would spin instead of bouncing if he didn't hit it at the exact right angle at the exact right time—and he broke right through a dozen of the metal connectors that connected the bag to the mount before finally asking Lex what the point was.

"Control." Lex nodded toward the speed bag. Clark stepped out of the way and Lex stepped up himself, repeatedly punching with one hand about twice per second. "That's about right."

Clark's breath caught in his throat—he'd spent the last hour just learning how to hit the thing. "How do you do that?"

"Years of practice. The harder you hit, the faster it bounces back. We need you to be able to control how hard you hit, right?"

"Right . . ."

"So." Lex stepped aside again. "Try for the speed I was just doing."

Clark made it spin a few times, but he took a deep breath, concentrated on the motion of the bag, and managed to hit it so that it bounced about twice per second. He hit it twenty times before looking up at Lex. "Like that?"

"There you go." Lex stepped aside and picked up the mitts. "Now. Hit me that hard. _Exactly_ that hard."

Clark still didn't want to, but at least this time he had an idea of what he was doing. The clap when he struck the mitt wasn't as loud as the time he'd hurt Lex, but it was still satisfying, echoing in the experiment room.

Lex grinned. "That's more like it. Let's keep practicing. When you're comfortable, I'll give you a set."

* * *

When Lex wasn't catching up on work for the plant and the Talon, or teaching Clark how to fight without killing anyone, he was working with Dr. Hamilton on the meteor rock experiments. Armed with the confidence of Clark's approval, he increased the funding and accelerated the timeline of the research.

The release of the toxins from the Nicodemus flower came as a shock, especially since Lex hadn't authorized the experiment with the flower. On the one hand, Lex understood the logic of what Dr. Hamilton had been intending. The experiments Lex had approved mainly involved irradiating various human tissue samples with meteor rocks, but it could be difficult to know how the radiation might affect the whole organism based on the behavior of individual cells.

But irradiating dormant seeds in order to revive an extinct plant—and one, at that, with a history of causing serious problems—was something Lex never would have approved. He had every intention of giving Dr. Hamilton a serious piece of his mind, as well as restricting his freedom in experimentation. But right now, they just needed to figure out how to stop the toxin, and how to help the people who were infected.

Lex was reading up on the history and lore of the Nicodemus flower when Clark came into his study for their Monday visit. Clark looked a lot more stressed than usual. Lex closed his laptop. "Everything okay, Clark?"

"It's my dad. He's been acting . . . weird."

"Weird how?" Lex tried to ignore the nagging sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.

"Well, it started after he got in a car accident and saved some guy from a car fire."

"I heard about that. Thought about coming by to make sure he was okay."

"I'm glad you didn't. He went on for awhile about how he had half a mind to sue you, since it was one of your employees and the guy almost ran him off the road. I don't think he would have taken it well if you'd come to check on him."

That didn't surprise Lex at all. It didn't even sting. "So, your dad hates me more than usual. And that's weird how?"

"That part wasn't weird. He's been blowing off chores and drinking a lot and . . ." Clark winced.

"What?"

"Ah, kissing my mom . . . in front of me . . . a _lot_." Clark shuddered. "At first I thought he was just letting it go to his head, but I dunno, Lex, it was _really_ weird. I've never seen him like that before."

"Huh." Acting on impulses, increased anger and sex drive, lack of priorities and work ethic, all out of character—that was the Nicodemus toxin. If they couldn't figure out a way to stop it, Jonathan would be dead within a few days.

Clark shrugged. "It'll probably blow over in a few days. It's just a little uncomfortable."

Everything in Lex wanted to keep his involvement in the whole ordeal to himself. He could easily imagine Clark growing angry, blaming Lex, cutting off the friendship . . . But he could much _more_ easily imagine Clark doing all of those things, and possibly worse, if Lex lied to him and Clark found out about it later. "I think I know what might be happening."

"But . . ." Clark frowned. "How can you know?"

Lex swallowed hard. This kind of open honesty did _not_ come naturally to him. "Ever heard of the Nicodemus plant?"

Clark shook his head.

Lex picked up _The Nicodemus Diary_ and read aloud. " _On God's green earth, this flower was the thief in the temple, the silent temptress that, with a single sneeze, brought out the basest instincts in men and drove them to violence_."

Clark blinked. "What?"

"Apparently, in 1871, a strange contagion struck the Morelly Settlement, and two hundred people died almost over night. A priest who witnessed the scene left a diary. His last entries described how the settlers began acting out of character. He claimed a local flower was to blame. After wreaking havoc on their friends and family, the victims would fall into a coma and pass within days."

"It sounds like a legend."

Lex half smiled. "So do you."

"Fair point." Clark's brow furrowed. "But, 1871? You think the flower is still around?"

"It wasn't. Ah . . . Dr. Hamilton used the meteor rock to revive it."

The horror on Clark's face was everything Lex feared it would be. "What? Why?"

"He thought the toxin might have some other, more practical applications."

"You think it might have infected my dad? _Your_ experiment?"

Lex forced his face to remain stoic. "I'm so sorry, Clark, I had no idea—"

"No idea _what?_ " The venom in Clark's voice finally forced Lex to flinch. "No idea the risk you were taking? No idea it might get back to my family?"

"Yes. But it's more than that. I had no idea Dr. Hamilton was reviving the plant in the first place."

Clark's eyes widened. Lex froze in place for a moment, heart beating hard against his chest, but Clark's expression finally softened. "Okay. I believe you."

Lex let his breath out. He had thought he was getting used to his friendship with the most incredibly powerful being on the planet; he was startled by how afraid he apparently still was. He handed Clark the top two books from the stack he'd checked out at the library.

"What's this for?"

"Get reading. The outbreak in 1871 didn't last forever; they must have done something to stop it. If you can get Chloe to do some research, too, that might help." Lex was always leery of getting too many people involved in these types of things, but based on the stories Clark told, Chloe was a good friend to Clark—impressively intelligent and, even more importantly, resourceful and well-connected.

"Okay." Clark sat down across from Lex at the desk and accepted the books. He cracked open the first one, but he looked up at Lex rather than down at the book. "What are you going to do about Hamilton?"

Lex had been thinking about that. "Relocate him. I need to keep a closer eye on his work." He looked Clark in the eyes. "And I'd like you to keep a closer eye on me."

"How do you mean?"

"I want you to be more involved in the choices I make about what experiments to run with Dr. Hamilton."

"Lex, this wasn't your fault. You didn't choose this experiment."

"You're right. I wouldn't have taken the risk. But . . . I might take other risks in the future. My curiosity is my greatest fault. It's why I was so nervous about running experiments on you."

Clark shrugged. "You've been great. I don't know what you're worried about."

"Clark, please."

"But if you just want me to be more involved in the meteor rock experiments . . ."

"Yes. I do."

Clark smiled. "Okay. I'd be happy to," he said. Lex smiled back, and Clark's face became more serious. "My dad's infected. Let's research." Clark looked back down at his book, and Lex opened his laptop.

Lex tried to focus on his reading, but for the next hour, his throat was choked up with euphoria, and he found himself reading the same sentence over and over again. He was sure if he'd made the same mistake just a few weeks ago, Clark wouldn't have forgiven him so easily. They'd come a long way, individually and in terms of their friendship. Lex had no idea how he'd gotten so lucky.


	27. Darkness

Less than a week later, the Nicodemus toxin was cleared up, with no major harm done. It was a near miss, though—Clark's dad had brought his gun to a bank, but he'd promptly passed out upon reaching the front door, before he had a chance to do something rash. Jeff Beels, the first person who had been infected, was inches from death when they found the cure. Lana and Pete contracted the illness, too, but they didn't get a chance to do much; Clark gave Pete the antidote at the first sign that he was acting strangely, and Lex did the same for Lana.

Solving that problem quickly meant more time to work on meteor rock projects after it was over, which was incredibly fun. Clark thought it was almost as fun as doing experiments on himself. One afternoon, they did both—Lex let Clark look at some of his own blood under a microscope connected to a computer across the room, and then Lex held a meteor rock near the blood sample while Clark looked at the computer screen. The way the cells bubbled and trembled was a vivid image of exactly how Clark felt whenever meteor rocks were nearby.

Most of the time, though, neither Clark nor Lex really worked with the materials directly, but they talked about choosing new ideas and directions for the research to take, and they looked at the data and images Dr. Hamilton sent to Lex. So far, Dr. Hamilton really hadn't uncovered much. But it was still cool to see the effects the meteor rocks had on human cells, even if they were terribly inconsistent, ranging anywhere from killing or diseasing the cells, to causing them to rapidly multiply, to making them change shape and develop weird properties, to having no effects they could see at all.

For now, though, the only real "data" they had about what the meteor rocks could do to a whole person was their experiences with mutants—and usually, the mutants became thieves or murderers.

But a couple of weeks after he and Lex found the cure for the toxins from the Nicodemus flower, Clark met another meteor mutant, and this one wasn't a murderer. He was the youngest mutant Clark had ever met—Ryan James. Ryan was only eleven, and he could read minds. His step parents had used him for his abilities, forcing him to find out the passwords to people's safes so they could steal from them.

A part of Clark wanted to offer to let Ryan experiment with his abilities at Lex's mansion, but there were a host of reasons that wouldn't work. For one thing, Ryan didn't seem to be particularly interested in his abilities themselves. He was much more focused on keeping himself safe, which made sense, given his circumstances. For another, Ryan was staying with Clark's family, and it was difficult to get him away for long enough to visit Lex, especially since Clark was still grounded and wasn't supposed to be away from the house except for school and his internship—and why would he be bringing Ryan to his internship?

Ryan did meet Lex once when Clark's dad took him to get a hot chocolate. Ryan confronted Clark about it later when they were shooting hoops in the front yard. "I met Lex Luthor at the Talon," he said.

"Yeah?" Clark tried to appear disinterested, dribbling absently, but he could feel his adrenaline spiking.

"He thinks about you a lot."

Clark dropped the basketball, letting it bounce away. He glanced around himself to make sure his parents weren't around, then lowered his voice. "You didn't mention that to my dad, did you?"

"I haven't even told your dad I can read minds."

Clark let his breath out. "I haven't told my dad I'm friends with Lex. My dad thinks I should avoid him."

Ryan frowned, looking over at the basketball, which was rolling away.

"Um . . ." Clark shifted his weight. He didn't want to violate Lex's privacy, but his life depended on Lex being trustworthy. "Did you hear anything . . . I mean . . . _should_ I avoid him?"

"You should be careful."

"Careful . . . how?"

"There's a lot of darkness he hides." Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets. "But he really admires you. Take good care of him."

Clark nodded—none of that was really new information, but it was good to have it confirmed. "I will."

Ryan gave a little half smile and went over to get the basketball.

* * *

Lex was still fuming from a conversation he'd had with his father—his dad wanted him to move back to Metropolis to work under him, of all things—when Clark arrived for his internship. Lex hoped to be able to vent a little about his father; Clark was a good listener even when there was no way for him to understand what Lex was talking about or the struggles he was going through. But Clark wore a familiar expression when he entered the study. He had something on his mind, too.

Lex sighed and set aside his concerns about Metropolis. Clark was younger and less able to ignore his own worries; Lex had to defer to him. "What's on your mind, Clark?"

Clark smiled wryly as he took a seat. "Is it that obvious?"

It was Lex's turn to smile. He stood and walked over to the couches, nodding to the space across from him.

Clark sighed and sat down. "I've just been thinking . . . about Ryan."

"The kid I met at the Talon?" Lex frowned. "He's a bit unusual, isn't he?"

Clark took a deep breath. "He's a mind reader."

Lex blinked. That was the last thing he'd been expecting to hear. "Wow."

"He . . . said something about you."

Lex's mind raced, trying to remember what he'd been thinking about when he was at the Talon. Probably a lot of dirty thoughts about exactly what his father could do with his job offer, possibly accompanied by some flattering thoughts about Clark and all the reasons why Lex wanted to stay in Smallville. "What's that?"

"He said there's a lot of darkness you hide."

"Ah." Lex could feel his muscles tensing against his will. "You knew that, Clark."

"I know, but . . ." Clark winced. "I wonder what he would have said about me if he could hear _my_ thoughts."

"I take it you're immune to his telepathy."

Clark nodded.

"You think the darkness you hide is any worse than mine?" Lex couldn't imagine it beginning to compare. Having Clark around helped—Lex felt like he'd been able to do some good things, and he had done quite a lot over the past few months to improve the working conditions at the plant—but sometimes it felt like a bandage over a bullet wound.

"Lex, I have a lot of dark thoughts, too. I still think about that guy I killed, and about how much I hurt you, and . . ."

Lex leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Clark, I forgave you. You've gotta stop beating yourself up."

"It's not about forgiving myself. It's just . . . I've hurt a lot more people over the past year than ever before in my life."

"You've saved a lot more people, too."

Clark scoffed. "That's _easy_. I'm bulletproof."

Lex forced himself to hide his grimace. "Are you worried my darkness is going to rub off on you?"

" _No_. I'm afraid mine is going to rub off on you. I don't know _who_ I'm going to become."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Clark. Me, I've got my father's blood running through my veins."

"I don't even know who my father _was_ , Lex." Clark looked away. "At least you have some idea of what to avoid."

Lex swallowed hard. He could have kicked himself for failing to consider that part of it. For Clark, learning about his abilities wasn't just about the abilities themselves—it was about learning about himself on a much more personal level. Lex, at least, knew where he came from. He knew he would tend to make the same mistakes as his father, and he tried to hold close to the lessons his mother had taught him—though come to think of it, she had often been distant as well; he'd learned more from his nanny than from his mom.

Clark could do the same thing—he could tend toward the lessons he'd learned from the Kents, rather than his natural inclinations. But Lex wasn't sure whether all of the Kents' lessons were helpful to Clark. Aside from that, Clark wouldn't know what tendencies to avoid without knowing anything about his birth parents. And even if he did know what to avoid, it wouldn't tame the ever-burning fear that he might become something he didn't want to be, that he didn't have a choice in the matter . . . Lex knew all too well. "What do you need from me, Clark?"

"I don't know." Clark stood and paced. "I need some time to think about this."

Lex breathed in to press him for more information, but at the last moment, he decided granting Clark's request would be better for both of them. "Need a cover story for why you're off early?"

"No, I . . . can I go take a walk? I can't go see anyone, I'm still grounded because of the Club Zero thing."

Lex made a mental note to offer Clark more internship sessions if he wanted them. Now wasn't a good time to bring it up, though. "I'm here when you want to talk."

Clark nodded. "Thanks, Lex."

With that, he left the study. Lex let his breath out and headed for his decanter.

* * *

Ryan's aunt came to pick him up a couple of days later. Clark knew that telling Lex about Ryan had been a risk—Ryan probably wouldn't have been very happy about it—but Clark was really worried about Ryan's safety. People had already tried to take advantage of Ryan's abilities once; who was to say they wouldn't try to do it again?

On their next visit, Clark expressed his concerns to Lex, who told Clark he'd keep an eye on the situation. Lex made an arrangement with some of his connections who lived near Ryan's aunt—if Ryan ever went off the grid, Lex would be the first to know about it, and a team of private investigators would be alerted to go and find him. That made Clark feel a little better. The last thing Clark wanted was for Ryan to have to fear ending up being a lab rat in an institution. Clark had lived with that fear for most of his life—knowing he had Lex's protection gave him a layer of security he'd never had before.

But the conversation Lex and Clark had about their respective inner darknesses weighed heavily on Clark's mind, enough that he barely slept. He was on his second day of sleeplessness when an idea hit him.

It took him a few days to make a plan and carry it out. But by the time he next went to his "internship," he was ready.

He met Lex in the experiment room, carrying a small cardboard box. Lex had just been replacing the speed bag. He looked up from his work and smiled when Clark came in. "Hey. Be honest if you're not up for it, but today I was thinking—"

"Lex, we need to talk."

The color drained from Lex's face. "Of course." He took a step closer, and his eyes fell on the box. "What's this?"

"Something I made for you in shop class."

"A gift?"

"If I was giving you a gift, I wouldn't be asking for something in return."

Lex's eyebrows knitted, but he held out a hand for the box. He opened it and lifted the pendant by its chain—a lead sphere. "What is it?"

"It's something you can use to stop me if . . . if you ever need to."

"What are you talking about, Clark?"

The sharpness in Lex's voice made Clark wince. "I wanted to ask you to carry some meteor rock on you at all times. Just in case. That sphere is lead, so you can carry it without hurting me—unless you need to. There's little magnets inside—if you press the side, or if the chain is broken, it opens."

Lex's jaw pulsed. "And you want me to wear this all the time? Carry around a little piece of the one thing that can kill you?"

"You're afraid of your inner demons taking you over, aren't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"I'll make you a promise. I won't let it happen. If I think you're going . . . on a bad path, I _will_ stop you. And I'll bring you back, if I can." Clark looked down at the pendant. "I want you to promise the same to me."

For a long time, Lex just stared at him. Clark could tell he wanted to argue, but he didn't. He just put down the box and put the pendant around his neck. "Go take five. I'm gonna put the meteor rock inside."

Clark smiled. He was about to leave the experiment room, but instead, he closed the distance between himself and Lex and pulled him into a tight hug. "Thanks," he said.

Lex relaxed into the embrace for a moment, then he patted him on the back a couple of times and let go. "See you in a few."

"See you," Clark said, and he left the experiment room.


	28. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be taking a slight bit of liberty with the order of events in the A plots and B plots here. It's an AU; sue me :P Also, next week's update might be a couple of days late.

Lex had agreed to wear the lead pendant purely to give Clark peace of mind. He had no intention of ever using it, but he knew how comforting it could be to know there was a failsafe in place to protect others in the event that he became someone he didn't want to be. It gave him a renewed determination to be a better man, to ensure that Clark should never have to use his powers against Lex, either.

That was put to the test when Lex found Dominic Santori playing pool in his study.

"Your father's very disappointed with you, Lex."

Somehow, it never ceased to sting. "My father's disappointment is perennial. Only the circumstances change. What do you want, Dominic?"

Dominic continued to position the pool cue. "An internal audit of your division has turned up accounting irregularities, and I've been authorized to come down and go through it in a thorough manner."

Lex scoffed. "So this is payback for turning down my father's offer to join him in Metropolis." He plunked down at his desk.

"Lionel has been very tolerant of your excesses." Dominic set down the pool cue. "But this time, you didn't spend the money on parties and sports cars, and he wants to know where it went."

Lex gave him a sarcastic smile that quickly faded. He set his forearms on the table, leaning forward and looking Dominic in the eyes. "Do you know what my father gave me for my tenth birthday? A copy of _The Will to Power_. Behold the super man. Man is something to be overcome." He got up from the desk and paced beside the bookshelf. "Sun Tzu, Machiavelli, Nietzsche. They were the voices that nurtured me after my mother died. My father made ever question a quiz, every choice a test. Second best was for losers, compassion for losers, trust no one. Those were the lessons I grew up with."

"I'll remember that if I'm every interviewed by the biography channel."

Lex stepped toward Dominic and hardened his voice. "All I'm saying, Dominic, is try and remember who I was raised by. I try to deny it, but I'm still my father's son. Tread carefully."

Lex turned to walk away, but found Clark standing in the doorway.

He forced himself not to wince. "Ah . . . Clark."

"Lex?" Clark gave him an uncomfortable look, glancing between him and Dominic.

Dominic, however, was smiling, amusement lighting up his eyes. "You're the Kent boy, aren't you?"

"Leave him alone." The words came out harsher than Lex intended.

Dominic gave him a disapproving look, then he turned back to Clark. "Your father hasn't exactly kept his feelings about the Luthors a secret. I wonder if he knows you're here."

Anger flooded through Lex's veins. He couldn't keep up the pretense for their internship today. "Clark, I'm a bit busy today."

"Lex . . ." Clark grimaced.

"I'll catch you tomorrow." Lex had been planning to settle things quietly with Dominic. He'd grit his teeth and bear the insults and attacks, trusting that his defenses against people prying into his personal affairs would hold. If there were any attacks against his employees, he would take more direct action.

But Dominic had threatened _Clark_. That was absolutely unacceptable.

So Lex made his plan. It was a dark plan, but it was necessary to keep Clark safe. In a few hours, a limousine would arrive at the LuthorCorp building in Metropolis, with Dominic tied up in the trunk. Lex almost let it go, but at the last moment, he decided to accompany it.

They met in an alley in Metropolis. His father was clearly amused. "Interesting choice of location for a meeting, Lex. Why didn't you just come up to the penthouse?

"I was making a garbage delivery. I didn't want to tarnish the marble."

"I'm not in the mood to joust, Lex."

"I was hoping you might explain Dominic's visit."

"My auditors discovered a number of unaccounted expenditures coming out of the Smallville plant. I thought it prudent to investigate."

Now it was Lex who wasn't in the mood for their word games. "Come on, Dad. I squandered more than a weekend in Hong Kong. You didn't sic your adding machines on me then.

"We're talking corporate finances, Lex, not your pocket money."

"It bothers you, doesn't it? That I'm not dependent on your anymore, that I've made friends in Smallville, people I can trust."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lex. I'm happy you're doing well."

His father's lies were particularly irritating in the wake of Clark's open honesty. "No, you're not. You're afraid I won't need you anymore."

"You'll always be my son. And you will always need me, Lex." His father turned and began to walk away.

"Aren't you going to ask about Dominic? He hasn't checked in for hours, has he? Unusual for a man of his tediously predictable nature." Lex took out the key to the car and tossed it to his father. "Go ahead. Pop the trunk."

His father sighed heavily. "Lex. What has he done, what has he done?" He opened the trunk of the limo to find Dominic tied up inside.

Lex ripped the tape off of Dominic's mouth, and he shouted. "You want to ask an accounting question, Dad?" Lex asked. "Call me. And the next time one of your drones threatens the Kents, he'll be lucky to catch a ride home with the spare."

His father's eyes narrowed. "The Kents, huh?"

Lex swallowed—he hadn't really meant to bring that up.

"I do have an accounting question, Lex." His father took a step closer. "The daycare."

"Daycare?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

Lex put his hands in his pockets, hardening his expression. He'd been inspired to set up a child care program for his employees after spending some time talking with Clark about the struggles his parents had had when Clark was little—Lex quickly figured out it was the reason the farm was in debt, though Clark didn't seem to know that. "It's paid for by the participating families. Being able to bring their kids to work cuts down on their commute time so they can be on time in the morning."

His father's eyes narrowed. "If they were coming to work late, you should have fired them, not enabled them."

"The program is in the black." Pooling together the funds had resulted in more affordable services.

"It's not in the green. It's not worth your time."

Lex disagreed, but employee morale couldn't easily be assigned a dollar value. "It's my plant, and it's my time. Complain when I'm costing you something."

"Like the additional vacation time you granted your employees?"

"Research has shown—"

"And the updates to the cafeteria?"

"That _will_ be in the green." The quality of the cafeteria food had forced most of the employees to bring their own food—another inconvenience to them.

"You're running a corporation, not a restaurant. Speaking of which—the Talon?"

Lex swallowed. "That's not corporate."

"I thought we'd discussed a parking garage."

"We don't need one." Lex set his jaw. "The plant is coming closer to making a profit than it has in years. You may not like my methods, but you can't deny my results."

"Lex . . ." His father squeezed his shoulder, and Lex fought to keep from flinching. "You're losing sight of the bigger picture, son."

Lex couldn't help but glance down at his father's hand on his shoulder. "Which is?"

"You have a destiny. And it's not in Smallville. It's not built on clever bookkeeping. It's not—"

"It's not any of your business." Lex shrugged away his father's hand. "I'm making profits. That's all you need to know."

Lex walked away, but he knew he would pay for this.

* * *

Lex didn't tell Clark much about Dominic. Their dealings fell under the category of corporate information. Withholding it from Clark wasn't so much about keeping secrets as it was preventing from boring him—if Clark asked, he would make a full confession.

But Clark didn't ask, and Lex still felt the need to confess to someone. He planned to confess to his mother when he went to visit her grave for the ninth anniversary of her death.

Pamela Jenkins was at the cemetary.

Seeing her again brought up a whirlwind of emotions. When Lex had been injured in the meteor shower and lost his hair, everyone had treated him differently. Some had actively avoided talking about the change, some had made snide remarks, some treated him like an invalid. His own father was clearly disgusted; his mother seemed to feel guilty that she'd let it happen. Pamela was the one person who had just treated him exactly the way she had before the accident. Unlike his father, she didn't go through a period of being uncomfortable touching him, and unlike his mother, she didn't awkwardly trail off awkwardly at the end of a sentence when she asked him to wear an extra-thick hat before going out in the cold.

She was the one who took care of him for most of the time, more often than either of his parents or any of his tutors or teachers. She was the one who taught him how to read, and she was the only one who ever succeeded in holding off any of his father's abuse—she'd managed to completely prevent a few beatings. His mother was usually the one to comfort and treat him in the immediate wake of the abuse, but Pamela was the one who built him back up in the days that followed, teaching him that he was worth something.

After the incident with Julian, Lex was no longer sure where he stood with either of his parents. Pamela had been the one person he was absolutely sure loved him. She was the only one who held him when he cried over Julian's death.

Then when his mother died, when he needed her the most, she left him. And now, on the ninth anniversary of his mother's death, she was seeking forgiveness

At first, he refused outright, even though she claimed his father had threatened her to make her abandon Lex. But it kept him awake the next night, and he ended up speaking with his father about it. His father confirmed that she had only left in the first place because he'd threatened to cut off Lex if she stayed.

He also told Lex that she was dying of cancer.

* * *

She looked so frail and weak in the hospital bed that Lex wondered why he hadn't seen it before. His anger had blinded him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not your concern."

"It's not my concern that you're dying? I could help you, I can get you treatment."

"Oh, I didn't come to you for help or pity, I came because I've nothing left to lose. The truth is I'm ashamed that it took metastasizing to give me the courage. I was too scared to even tell just once . . . how much you mean to me. . . . How much I wanted to help you grow up."

"I wish you had. I might be a better man."

"The fact that you're here speaks volumes about the man that you are. Your mother would be proud."

She held out her hand, and he took it in his. "I really miss her."

"So do I."

He blinked back his tears and squeezed her hand a little tighter. She didn't have long, according to her doctors. But he could be there for her in the time she had left. God knew she'd returned that favor a thousand times over.


	29. Mutants

It wasn't long before Clark and Lex hit a brick wall with the meteor experiments. Dr. Hamilton sent facts about the geometries within the molecular structure of the meteors themselves every week, but there just weren't any more patterns to be found in terms of the way they affected human cells.

Clark was kind about it, saying they'd done the best they could, but Lex kept thinking there had to be a better way. There had to be some way they could figure out more.

"Maybe we've been approaching this the wrong way," Lex said one afternoon while they were winding down from a training session with a pile of snacks in his dining room. "You've met a few more mutants recently, haven't you?"

"Three in the last couple of weeks. Four, if you count the visions Lana was having when Chloe got kidnapped," Clark said.

"Hm." Lex stood and rummaged through a few drawers until he found a notepad. He sat back down, beginning to take notes. "Tell me about the people you've met."

"Should I count Lana, or no?"

"Is she still having the visions?"

"No."

"Then let's leave her off the list for now."

Clark nodded. "Okay, so this last week, it was Justin Gaines."

"Telekinesis, right?" Lex wrote it down.

"Yeah. He was in a car accident and his hands were destroyed, and he was mostly using his powers to continue his artwork." Clark frowned. "Until he started trying to kill people. Now he's in a psychiatric ward."

Lex marked in a bold X to symbolize the murderous tendencies. "Before him?"

"I guess that would be Sasha Woodman."

"The girl who could control . . . bees." Lex shook his head as he wrote—it was so strange and random.

"She was stung over a thousand times by bees that had been infected by meteor rocks. I guess being able to control them was a kind of relief for her. She was always kind of a control freak, though."

Lex nodded slowly. "She tried to kill people too, right?"

"Yeah. She's in Belle Reve now."

Lex drew another dark X, beside Sasha's name. "Before that was Tyler . . ."

"Tyler Randall. He could kill people by touching them. I guess he tried to euthanize his mom, then fell out of a window and ended up getting bits of meteor rock lodged in his wrists."

"And he tried to kill people on purpose, right?"

"Didn't just try. Succeeded. Almost killed Whitney's dad, too. But he killed himself."

Another X. "Who else?"

Clark walked back through the rest, this time starting from the beginning.

Jeremy Creek, who could control electricity because he'd been put in a coma by a meteor rock strike. He'd killed a bunch of guys and made an attempt on everyone at the homecoming dance at Smallville High—he got a particularly bold X. Clark was pretty sure he'd lost his powers along with his memories in the end, though.

Greg Arkin, a nerdy kid who had become some kind of human-insect hybrid, for about the same reasons as Sasha. He'd been injured in the fight with Clark; Clark wasn't sure where he was now. Another X.

Coach Walt Arnold, who could control fire because of the meteor rocks in his sauna. Dead now. He hadn't killed anyone, but he'd been violent, much more so than before receiving the meteor rock sauna. Another X.

As Clark continued to go through the list, Lex started to note the things in common. The violence was a given—none of the people had been violent before their mutation, and almost all were violent after. Then again, Cassandra Carver, who could tell the future but had died after seeing Lex's, was an exception. Kyle Tippet was an exception as well, and Ryan James. Earl Jenkins was a borderline case—it was hard to say whether it was the mutation itself that had caused him to take a room full of kids hostage, or if it was just his desperation in the face of his terrible situation.

There was almost always an element of twisted wish fulfillment, too. It was usually the ability to use something that should have killed them in order to survive and kill others, but sometimes it was something else—like with Jodi Melville gaining the ability to eat anything she wanted without gaining weight, but also being so unable to satiate her hunger that she started sucking the fat out of live humans.

Of course, if meteor mutation was about wish fulfillment and violence, that made sense of why the effects on individual cells was random, erratic, and sometimes non-existent. Tissue samples didn't have desires, and they didn't have the opportunity to become violent.

Clark glanced over Lex's shoulder. "Is this list just for people who have powers, or is it for everyone who was altered?"

"Ah . . ." Lex shrugged, turning back the page of his notes. Clark had a point. There could be people who had been infected, with minimal or non-supernatural effects. When they'd subjected individual human cells to the meteor rocks, some had died or rapidly multiplied—but it wasn't going to be easy to determine how many people in Smallville had died of, say, cancer or other complications due to exposure to meteor rocks. "Who do you have in mind?"

"You."

Lex blinked. "I was injured, Clark. It had nothing to do with the meteor rocks."

Clark's eyes wandered up to the top of Lex's head. "What kind of injury leads to . . ." Clark lowered his head, cheeks growing pink. "I'm sorry, Lex."

Oddly, Lex didn't feel any offense at all. Snide remarks about his baldness still hurt after all these years, but he trusted Clark absolutely never to make fun of him in that way. "It's okay. And . . . maybe you're right." Lex had sometimes been teased about his hair when he was young, as well as for his asthma. The accident had removed both from the equation—that might be the wish fulfillment. Lex was pretty sure he didn't have any special abilities, though. As to the dark tendencies . . . he wasn't sure whether to mark that in for himself, either.

"I wish we could find a way to cure people," Clark said.

Lex swallowed. "I don't see a way to do that, except maybe . . ." He shook his head. Clark wouldn't like it.

"Maybe what?"

"By collecting samples from live meteor mutants."

Clark frowned. "How would we get that?"

Lex ran with the fact that Clark wasn't shutting him down right off the bat. "Ah . . . there are a few people on this list who might be willing to make a donation. And Belle Reve has dealt with enough of these people, we might be able to cut a deal."

Clark squirmed. "I don't know if I like that."

Lex breathed in to respond, but his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—it was the number for the hospital where Pamela was staying. "Sorry, Clark, I have to take this."

Clark nodded, and Lex slipped out of the room.

"This is Lex," he said.

"Hi Lex."

His heart sank. Pamela's voice sounded even weaker and smaller than when he had gone to visit her. "Hey. Is everything okay?"

"I just . . . I wanted you to know I filled out a DNR form, and I've asked to be unplugged."

Lex hung his head, a weight dropping onto his chest. "I understand," he said softly. "I'll be right there."

"Lex, you don't have to."

"I don't want you to die alone."

It was quiet on the other end.

"I'll see you in a few minutes."

"You're a good man, Lex."

Lex didn't have anything to say to that. He hung up and turned to Clark.

Clark gave him a sympathetic look. "Was that your old nanny?"

Lex nodded. He'd only told Clark about her briefly; he really didn't want to worry his younger friend with it. "There's, ah, there's no hope of recovery for her. They've made her comfortable, but . . ."

"I'm so sorry, Lex."

Lex looked away, blinking a couple of times. "I wasn't with my mother when she passed. I need to be with Pamela. You should go home, Clark."

"You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

"Clark—"

"I could go to the hospital with you."

"You really don't have to do that," Lex said. "There's nothing you can do, anyway."

"Lex, you . . . sat with me, when I accidentally killed that guy who broke into your house. That was what I needed. Be honest with me." He looked Lex right in the eyes. "Would it help if I came to sit with you?"

Lex took a deep breath. If he was honest with himself, he was more embarrassed at the thought of Clark seeing him cry than he was concerned about Clark's mental state. But looking into Clark's eyes, he knew he didn't have to worry about whether Clark would judge him.

"Yeah," Lex said finally. "It would help."

* * *

Lex debated about actually bringing Clark into Pamela's hospital room. They didn't know each other, and it didn't seem like an appropriate time for them to meet for the first time; it would be better for Clark to sit in the waiting room, ready to sit with Lex when he came back out. But Clark followed him through the hallways of the hospital, and Lex didn't have the heart to tell him to leave. When they reached the door to Pamela's room, though, Clark whispered, "I'll wait for you outside?"

"That's fine, Clark. Thanks so much for doing this."

"Of course," Clark said, but then he frowned, squinting at the door. "Um, actually . . . I need to check something."

Lex raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"Can I just . . ." Clark pushed the door open. Lex's breath caught in his throat, and he followed close behind him.

Pamela was sitting up in bed, reading the last page of the book Lex had brought her the week before. "Oh, hello. Are you a friend of Lex's?"

"Yeah. I'm Clark. It's nice to meet you." Clark's brow furrowed.

Pamela smiled weakly. "It's nice to meet you, too."

Clark turned to Lex. "Can I talk to you outside for a minute?"

Now Lex was starting to get frustrated. "Um, can it wait, Clark?"

"It's important."

Lex resisted the urge to groan. "I'll be right back, Pamela."

"Of course."

Lex stalked back out into the hallway, glaring at Clark as he closed the door behind them. "What was that about, Clark? She's about to die, have some respect—"

"She's infected."

"She's what?"

"It's faint, but . . . her cancer."

"What about it?"

"I think it was caused by the meteor rocks. I can feel a trace of them coming from her. It's not enough to hurt me, but I feel a little weaker."

Lex felt like he'd just been punched in the gut. "You're _sure?_ "

"Absolutely positive."

Adrenaline coursed through Lex's veins. He glanced toward the door of the hospital room, then back at Clark. "You think she's a mutant?"

"When Dr. Hamilton tested the effects of meteor rocks on the cells, some of them rapidly multiplied, right? Isn't that what cancer is?

"But that means . . ."

Clark nodded. "If we can find a way to cure the meteor mutations, there might be a way to cure her."

Try though he did to suppress it, a warm flicker of hope arose inside of Lex. There were so many unknowns. He didn't know if it was possible to cure a meteor rock mutation. Even if it was possible, it might not cure Pamela. The damage the cancer had done to her system might be irreparable, and she might die anyway. And all of this assumed that Pamela would even be willing to put off her plans to unplug herself, to subject herself to experimental treatment.

Still, there was hope now. Five minutes ago, there hadn't been.

"Well, then," Lex said. "We have our work cut out for us."


	30. Healing

Lex took a deep breath and stepped back into Pamela's hospital room. This was going to be a tough sell, but he had to make it—her life depended on it.

She smiled when he came into the room, a hint of laughter in her eyes.

"Hey," he said softly, sitting down on a chair beside her bed. "Sorry about that, my friend is a little . . . impulsive."

She held out her hand. "Thank you for being here, Alexander. I know it can't be easy."

He gently took her hand in his. "I'm not the one on life support."

She smiled, though her eyes shone. "I'm ready to go. You must believe me when I say that."

"Ah . . . actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."

"Alexander, the doctors have done everything they can do. It's only a matter of time now. I'm . . . I'm tired."

"Pamela, what do you know about the meteor shower?"

Her brow furrowed. "What about it?"

"Have you heard the theories that the meteors can alter people?"

"I—I suppose so, but I've never put much stock in . . . Alexander, what's this about?"

"I study the effects of the meteor rocks on human cells, and I've . . . accumulated some data about the effects on humans, as well. The meteors can sometimes cause people to have strange abilities, or to exhibit psychiatric disorders. They can also cause rapid cell growth."

Pamela raised her eyebrows. "Cancer."

"Yes."

She sighed. "Do you think the meteor shower caused my condition?"

"You've spent a lot of time in Smallville, haven't you? Around the meteors?"

"Ah, yes, I suppose . . ."

"Then I think there's a good chance." Lex couldn't exactly reveal why he knew for certain without revealing Clark's secret; that made it even harder to explain himself, but he would have to find a way. "My friend and I, we have some people running experiments, and we're going to try to learn how to reverse the effects."

She shook her head. "Oh, Alexander—"

"Now, it could be a long road. We're just in the beginning stages of the research, and there's a lot we don't understand. But I'm prepared to help you through it. I can get you in touch with the world's top specialists, who can keep you alive and make you comfortable in the meantime."

"No, no, I could never—"

"I would pay your medical bills, of course. And I'd be here for you, every step along the way."

Pamela stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. "Alexander, am I supposed to sit here on life support and wait for you to cure cancer?"

He clenched his teeth. "I'm not going to cure cancer. But if the meteor rocks are causing mutations, we might be able to undo them."

"Even if you do manage to find a cure for . . . whatever the meteor rock does, that doesn't mean it'll make the cancer go away."

"It might stop it from coming back."

"And it might not. And that's even if you can find a cure, and if my cancer _is_ even caused by the meteor rocks." Her eyes fell closed, and she shook her head. "I can't handle any more false hope."

"It's—this isn't just about you. If we can take biopsies, blood samples, we could learn a lot, and we might be able to help other people as well."

"I've been through a lot, Alexander. I don't want to keep fighting."

"Then let me fight for you. I can transfer you to a room in the mansion, hire around-the-clock care for you, stop in whenever you need me, keep you company every day—"

"I don't want you to put your life on hold for me, either."

"Please." His voice cracked. "Please, Mom, I—"

Her eyes widened, and she pulled back her hand.

He gasped, and his cheeks burned with humiliation at the slip. "I'm so sorry, Pamela. I—I didn't mean—"

"No, no, it's okay." She took his hand once more, and she kissed the back of his fingers. "It's okay, sweetheart."

His eyes stung, and he blinked a few times.

"Come here," she said, slowly pushing herself to sit up a little straighter, then shifting to one side.

He sat beside her on the bed, and she wrapped an arm around him. Her head lay on his shoulder; he wrapped his arm around her as well, as gently as he could.

"You know," she said, smiling down at his hand in hers, "if you'd come in here and asked me to do this . . . for you? That would have been enough."

His heart pounded so hard, he could feel his pulse in the whites of his eyes. "Is—is that a yes?"

"Yes, sweetheart. I'll do this."

Relief and joy flooded through him. "Really?"

She looked him right in the eyes. "You need me."

"Ah, I . . ." He couldn't admit it aloud. It simply wasn't something Luthors did.

"I haven't been needed in a long time."

He snapped to, pushing through his natural inclinations. "That's not true. I never stopped needing you."

She looked over at him, right in the eyes. "And I never stopped loving you."

It was the kindest statement she could have made, but it seared in his soul, excruciating. He couldn't remember having missed his mother so much since the year he first lost her. And yet in that moment, he felt that he had a piece of her back. Pamela wasn't his mother, but she had played that role so often when he was a child, she might as well have been. And she had loved him as if he were her son. He had been convinced for years that he was unloved in a way that Clark's friendship could never quite make up for.

He didn't deserve it, could _never_ deserve it, especially not after Julian. But Pamela knew about Julian, and she loved Lex anyway.

It filled some gaping hole in him he didn't know he had. It hurt like reopening an old infected wound to be cleaned. It was exactly what he needed, _everything_ he needed, but it would be awhile before the kindness didn't burn. He rested his cheek in her hair.

After a little while, she straightened up and let go of his hand. "I have conditions, of course."

"Anything."

"You will not neglect your work or your friends for me."

"I won't."

"You'll let me help you in any way I can, as much as my health allows."

"Ah, okay." He shifted uncomfortably—he didn't want her to have to work, but he could also see how it might not be good for her to feel helpless and without a purpose

"You'll be honest with me about your research, no matter what the results say. The moment you realize the mutations are incurable, I want to know."

"That won't happen."

She gave him a stern look. "That's another thing. If this doesn't work—if I don't make it—"

"Don't talk like that."

" _Alexander_."

He flinched. "Please, Pamela."

"If I don't make it, you will _not_ blame yourself. Do you understand me, young man?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears and and resisting the urge to pull her in tighter than her delicate frame could handle. "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled and nodded. "Okay, then."

"Thank you, Pamela."

She rested her head on his shoulder again. "Thank you, Alexander."


	31. Search

Clark was mostly quiet on the drive back to the mansion from the hospital. He was happy for Lex, and for Pamela, but it felt like a tall order. They needed to find a cure for Pamela's condition before her illness took her life. They'd probably have to call more scientists onto their team, an idea with which he was becoming more comfortable. There was no real chance the research team would connect the meteor rocks to Clark; they didn't have any reason to suspect him. But even at that, it felt daunting.

The research team would do most of the work in coming up with the cure, but Clark knew he and Lex would still need to take initiative and come up with some ideas themselves.

Clark knew that if he were in a situation like Lex was in, with someone he cared about dying, he would ask his parents for advice. He felt a flicker of sympathy for Lex, realizing his friend didn't have that option.

Lex didn't speak, either, on the drive back to the mansion. Clark might have expected him to be happy, or relieved—he had driven to the hospital with the expectation that he would be watching his old mentor die, and she was still alive. But Lex just looked exhausted.

"You okay?" Clark asked.

Lex gave a slight smile. "Better than I've been in awhile."

Clark frowned. He didn't _seem_ better. "Lex . . . you don't want to hear this, but . . . she could still die."

"You think I don't know that?" Lex sighed. "I'm not giving up on her yet."

"Of course not. Just . . ." Clark leaned back against the head rest. "I don't know where to look next."

"We keep digging. We see if we can get tissue samples from a few more people, we collect more meteor rocks, run more tests."

"And if it's not enough?"

Lex's jaw pulsed. "I'm open to suggestions, Clark."

Clark lowered his head, wracking his brain for something else he could try. "You know Miller's field?"

"What about it?"

"It's where my ship crash landed. If you search the crash site, you might find something useful."

Lex nodded slowly. "That's a big job for one person."

"I'd offer to help, but there'll probably be quite a few meteor rocks in the area."

"I'd have to bring a team of scientists."

"You could tell them you're just inspecting the land, like you're thinking of buying it."

"It might put them in danger of mutation."

"No more than they're already in, living in Smallville," Clark said. "But if you're that worried about it, they could wear Hazmat suits."

Lex shrugged. "It's worth a look."

* * *

The next morning, Clark came down from his room to find his father sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at a check.

Clark sat down across from him. "Everything okay, Dad?"

His dad lowered the check, slipping it into his pocket. "It's fine."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just . . ." His dad looked away. "Lex Luthor sent us a check. For the livestock."

"But that wasn't his fault!"

His dad's eyes narrowed.

 _Right_. That was the wrong argument to make. "Um, that's good that he's paying you back."

"I don't know if I'm going to deposit it, Clark."

"But . . ." That was so much worse. Lex didn't deserve to have to pay for the damages to the farm land, but he'd take Clark's dad refusing the money as a much deeper insult. "Dad, you don't want to upset him. I mean, he knows my secret, right? We have to kind of . . . stay on his good side."

"His _good_ side."

Clark sighed. "We don't want to make him angry."

His father sighed and nodded. "Okay. You're right. I'll stop by the Savings and Loan after we deliver the feed."

Clark grinned. His internship check wasn't enough to make a huge difference on the farm after the loss of the cattle; this would help the farm, and it would make Lex happy.

Clark didn't think about the fact that making the feed delivery would mean passing by Miller's field. Lex was already there, with a team of scientists in Hazmat suits.

The truck screeched to a stop. Clark winced and glanced up at his dad, whose face was turning red as he climbed out of the truck.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"This is where your ship crashed." His dad trudged toward the field.

Clark trotted to keep up. "Lex couldn't possibly know that."

But Clark's dad was ignoring him. He'd already reached the edge of the field and caught Lex's eye; Lex came over to greet them. "Morning, Mr. Kent. Morning, Clark."

"What do you think you're doing, Lex?"

Lex took another step toward them, his brow furrowed. "I'm considering buying this land for a pilot agricultural project, but I wanted to test the soil first. Standard operating procedure."

"Since when does standard operating procedure include metal detectors and Hazmat suits?"

"To be honest, we learned there may have been a major meteor strike on the site."

Clark was surprised Lex had shared so much. Then he remembered that, as far as his dad knew, the only secret Lex knew was about Clark's invulnerability. Everything else, Clark had shared without his father's knowledge.

"Of course," Lex went on, "there's no proof the meteors are actually harmful, but—"

"It never hurts to dot your i's and cross your t's, right?" Venom dripped from his dad's voice.

Lex appeared unfazed by his tone. "As you're well aware, LuthorCorp's environmental record's taken some serious hits in recent weeks. Better safe than sorry. Is there a problem?"

"Dad?"

"The problem is, Lex, that what's good for LuthorCorp isn't always what's good for this town."

Clark had _no_ idea what his dad was doing. He wasn't even making any sense.

A man in a Hazmat suit approached Lex. "Mr. Luthor?"

Clark's dad glared. "Looks like you've got business to attend to. Uh, Lex . . ." Clark's dad took out the check. "I've decided I can't accept your money."

"Mr. Kent, I don't understand."

"I wouldn't expect you would." He grabbed Lex's hand, pressed the check into his palm, and started back toward the truck.

Clark wanted to stay and talk to Lex, to apologize for his father's rudeness, but he couldn't let his dad see that. Instead, he hurried to catch up to his dad.

"Dad! Lex didn't deserve that. People test the land all the time."

His dad turned back toward him. "I know that, Clark. But this field is where your ship crashed down. If Lex's scientists find anything out here, they could trace it right back to you."

" _How?_ "

His dad raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"How are they supposed to trace it back to _me?_ What do you think they're going to find?"

"I don't know, Clark, but it's not worth the risk."

"But what does that have to do with Lex's check?"

"He's putting you in danger. Taking his money sends the message that I'm okay with that."

"No, it _doesn't_."

"Son." His dad gripped his arm. "You don't know about the Luthors."

"What do you know about Lex?"

"More than you do."

Clark didn't dare react to the irony. "You know about Lex's dad. But Lana says Lex has been great about the Talon. Maybe you should give him a chance."

" _Clark_." His grip on Clark's arm tightened. Clark winced in pain—they weren't close enough to the field for the meteor rocks to hurt him on their own, but he was close enough that he was a bit weaker than usual. "Lex hasn't been bothering you at the Talon, has he?"

"No. I've been avoiding him. Like you said."

"Good. If he bothers you—"

"I know, I know, if I don't avoid him, I'm grounded until I'm eighteen." Clark's grounding from the Club Zero incident had only recently ended.

"Well, yes. But if _he_ bothers _you,_ I'll press charges for the day he almost ran you over with his car. And I expect you to let me know if he does. Are we clear?"

Clark swallowed. "Crystal."

His dad nodded and let go of his arm. "Let's go home," he said.


	32. War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, If He Knew will be taking a short break and will return in April 2021.

Lex should have known that his investigations into the meteor rocks would get the better of him.

Should have known that word would get back to his father, especially after he had brought Pamela to stay in his house.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Lionel said, and Lex could barely hear him over the helicopter blades.

"So far, but they're calling for storms later," Lex said.

They started up the stairs to a platform that overlooked the gathering of employees. "Well, you know the heartland," his father said. "Some things can change in a minute."

It all sounded innocuous enough, but Lex knew his father. He wouldn't fly in for no reason. He was planning something.

"Is everyone assembled?"

"Twenty-four hours isn't a lot of notice." Lex had only managed to pull together a fraction of his employees. "Do you plan on giving me the heads up as to the nature of your remarks?"

"Just one of my customary motivational speeches you've heard hundreds of times."

No—that was a lie. Something was going to happen.

His father grinned and shook hands with Lex's upper level managers, greeting them enthusiastically. The smile on his father's face was about as comforting as the clear skies, only it wasn't a show—it was a genuine. The smile of snake about to strike.

Lex's father could do whatever he wanted to Lex, but his employees didn't deserve to be caught up in the middle of it. "The plant made a profit this quarter for the first time in two years. My people are expecting a pat on the back, and they deserve to get it."

"I'll try not to disappoint them."

The applause was nearly deafening as Lex's father took his place behind the podium. Lex was almost surprised by it. He knew how most of these people really felt about his father, even the ones who had come to respect Lex himself.

"Thank you!" his father said, and motioned for the crowd to quiet. "As most of you know, you've all worked extremely hard this past year and you should all be proud of yourselves."

This time, Lex applauded along with his people. He tried to keep his eyes on them. It was easier.

"Just as a ship can only follow the course set by its captain, any business is only as good as its leadership."

Lex glanced over at his father. He knew not to dare hope that his father might actually praise him publicly—it had never happened before—but he couldn't help the thrill of hope that rose in his chest.

"Due to management failures beyond your control, this plant will be closing, effective immediately. Good luck to all of you!"

The hope was smashed in an instant.

Hot adrenaline coursed through Lex's veins, numbing him from the inside out, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. For a moment, it froze him, and the enraged shouts of the crowd of people— _his_ people—washed over him, nearly drowned out by the pounding in his ears.

Then a lifetime of training kicked in. He snapped to attention and chased his father down the stairs. "You just fired 2500 people and blamed it on me."

"One day you'll thank me, Lex. Smallville isn't in your future. It's just a brief chapter in your biography.

"Don't do this!"

"We live in a meritocracy, Lex. The weak get left behind. The plant wasn't producing. I had no other option."

"Spare me the corporate barbarian spiel!" Lex's voice had risen to shouting. "Those people have husbands and wives, children, mortgages!"

"We're in business to make profits, not friends! You can't let your emotions get in the way of making tough decisions."

"Don't lecture me about letting emotions get in the way! This plant _was_ showing a profit. You're only shutting it down because I wouldn't go work for you in Metropolis!"

"Lex, you may have felt that you found a home here, but you were mistaken. This was just your training ground." Lionel headed toward the helicopter. "Well, your training is over!" You're coming home, son!"

And he was gone, leaving destruction in his wake, his helicopter disappearing into the too-clear sky.

* * *

The day passed in a blur of impossibly heavy exhaustion.

News travelled fast. Lex's phone blew up with messages. Among them were Clark's—Lex would have given anything for a few minutes of his best friend's comfort, but he couldn't afford the time. He had to protect his people.

Halfway through the day, he found Clark in his study.

"Clark, I got your messages, but I've been having a bad day."

Clark picked up the metal octagon Lex had found out in the field. "Nice paperweight."

"It's all yours, but be careful with it. I found it in the field where your ship crashed, but we'll have to talk about that later." He gave Clark a little smirk. "Sure you can afford being seen with the town pariah?"

"It's not like anyone knows I'm here." He sat down across from Lex at his desk, his brow furrowing. "My dad's been ranting about you, after seeing the news. What happened, Lex?"

Lex hid his pain from Clark. There was no point in showing it now. "The two theories seem to be, I either ran the plant into the ground through incompetence, or did it deliberately so I could go back to Metropolis."

"Your dad already offered you a job in Metropolis. Just tell people the truth."

"Then I get stuck with the incompetence rap. Being reviled is the lesser evil."

"I guess you're going back to Metropolis, then?"

Lex would never do that. He'd never been so determined to stay than he was now. "That's why my father orchestrated his coup, but this isn't over."

"You have a plan?"

"Maybe."

"Anything I can help with?"

Lex gave him a little smile. "This isn't the kind of thing your powers are for."

Clark sighed.

Lex smiled. "Thanks for stopping by. I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

Clark nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Lex's staff was on board for the buyout. It would be a risk for them, financially, but he could protect them.

At least, so he thought—until his father bought up the bank that held their mortgages, forcing his control once again.

But Lex kept working the numbers. He met with people, he offered bribes, he made personal sacrifices. He was so deep in his work that he almost didn't notice the tornado kicking up. He shrugged off his security guards' recommendations to get to somewhere safer; he had them take Pamela to a safer place, and he let most of his staff go home to their families.

Given the lowered security, it shouldn't have been a surprise when his father stormed into his study.

"So you're using your mother's stock to fund the buyout." Lex's father had to shout to be heard over the wind. "That's your secret source."

Lex rolled his eyes and stood, pacing away.

"I must admit, it's a bold move, Lex. But it won't work!"

Lex whirled to face him. "Did you brave the weather to tell me that?"

"It's suicide, Lex! You may get the plant, but you're putting your employee's homes on the line. Forfeiting your own future!"

"Or forging a new destiny, free from you!"

Mock surprise filled his father's eyes. "You're not my enemy. You're my son."

Lex could have laughed if it hadn't hurt so much. "I never saw the distinction." He paced away again, toward his desk.

His father launched into a speech. "When Alexander the Great was dying, his generals asked who he would leave his empire to. If he would appoint a successor, it would keep the legacy intact, prevent generations of bloodshed! His answer was simple— _I leave it to the strongest_."

Lex stalked back to face him, face inches from his father's. "I believe the term is, _Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!_ "

His father grabbed the sides of his head. "I'll bury you and everyone in Smallville who takes your side!"

Lex threw his father's hands away. He knew there was no point to it—if his father had decided to fight him physically, he'd lose, even if Lex was stronger. He never fought fair. If he'd decided Lex needed a beating, he'd pay off Lex's guards to hold him down.

But Lex would never find out whether that was what his father had in mind.

A burst of wind shattered the windows behind Lex's desk, and Lex found himself knocked back, spinning into a bookshelf, which crumbled on top of him. Searing pain split his forehead, and for a few moments, Lex couldn't see—blood poured down his face and ran into his eyes, burning them. He blinked a few times as papers and debris around the room.

Lex pulled himself to his feet in time to watch the roof's support beams begin to collapse. A jagged edge hovered over his father, who was pinned down by a column.

"Lex! Help me, Lex!"

The storm raged on, but to Lex it was quiet. Even the screaming agony in his forehead had died out. There was nothing here but the power over his father's life, in his hands at last.

" _Lex! I can't move!_ "

His father could be gone. No more abuse, no more pain, no more fighting, no more wondering if he was loved.

No one would ever know.

He could be free.

" _Help me!_ "

Clark wouldn't approve. But Clark would never know.

" _Lex!_ "

 _. . ._ No _._ If he really did let his father die, that wasn't a secret he'd be able to keep from Clark for very long. And once he confessed, Clark would never forgive him. Lex would lose everything. It would be worse than dying.

And yet, in so many ways, it would be so much easier, so much better. It would save his employees. It would save the town. It would save Lex—no, it would kill Lex from the inside out, shred what was left of his very soul, destroying his remaining friendship and with it his hope, but that was _worth_ it, his life was _worth_ sacrificing for his father's death . . .

Lex didn't have it in him to watch his father die. He had to save him. It was what Clark would have done, what Clark would have wanted him to do.

He took a step closer, reaching out—

Then he thought of Clark. Not about his friendship with Clark, not about what Clark would think of him—Clark himself.

Clark's secrets.

Lex could imagine all too clearly what his father would do if he knew Clark's secrets. It was _because_ of the likes of Lionel Luthor that Jonathan Kent had to be so paranoid. Lionel would find Clark's weakness, he'd strap him down and torture him and hurt him—or worse, he _wouldn't_ find out about Clark's weakness. He'd take Jonathan and Martha hostage and force Clark to cooperate, to become his weapon. To wreak destruction on the world. By comparison, the plant closure would seem like nothing. The _tornado_ would seem like nothing.

_I'll bury you and everyone in Smallville who takes your side._

His father had sworn never to leave things be, never to stop fighting. It wouldn't take long for him to suspect the real reasons Lex clung to Smallville, and when he did, he wouldn't rest until he found out the truth.

There was too much at stake. It was bigger than Lex himself, bigger than his company, bigger than Smallville. Maybe bigger than humanity.

If it weren't for that, he would never have had what it took.

"Son . . ."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Lex said, and his eyes watered. "I'm so sorry."

And he ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF PART 1


End file.
